With this Ring, I Thee Curse
by Jasie Song
Summary: Professor Snape is ordered to throw a ring at...er, 'give' a ring to Hermione. When the ancient artifact wraps them up in a drama written centuries before, can they fight its power and forge their own conclusion to a forgotten story?
1. Opal Visions

WIKTT 'With this Ring' Challenge

Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, this is fanfiction :P

**With this Ring, I Thee Curse**

Damn Dumbledore, and then damn him again. Damn the twinkle in his eye, damn that grin of his, damn his plots and harebrained schemes. What was the old fool up to this time?

Snape took a sip, a small sip, from the amber flask in his hand, turning an ornate ring under a beam of light spilling in from the window. The firewhisky burned, in an oddly comforting way. He never drank more than one flask a night, each sipped timed carefully in rhythm with his thoughts.

Why had Dumbledore given HIM the ring to give to Granger? It made no sense, and that was what was nagging at him. There was no damnable reason that the job should fall to him, unless Dumbledore had something up his sleeve.

"Reveal your secret." Snape asked idly, tapping his wand against the opal set at the heart of the ring. Under the moonlight, the white stone burned like fire. Expecting nothing to happen, he was quite startled to find the ancient ring cleaning itself. He had not cast a repairing spell, but then he supposed the rings 'secret' could be a very expensive ring hidden under a hundred years of grime. Spells were strange, that way. "En miendo li kaf nye…" Snape found the words tumbling from his lips, smooth as silk, though the language was certainly not one he had ever heard. "Amoren." He completed. The words almost had a Spanish flair, but were gibberish in any tongue he knew.

"Waste of bloody time." He tossed the ring onto the desk, admiring it slightly. It was well crafted, and under the dirt, it was quite a handsome piece. "Perhaps Granger can sell it and afford a decent hairstylist." He sneered to himself, amused by his own wit for a total of two seconds.

What was Dumbledore up too? Snape took another sip of firewhisky, a dangerously large one. That evenings events had certainly been….unexpected.

* * *

((Flashback))

* * *

"Severus, dear boy, please sit down. Sit down, lemon drop, mint?"

Severus took the mint. "You said it was important, Headmaster."

"It is, it very much is." His eyes were twinkling far too much, Severus scowled. Albus slowly brought out an ornate box and slid it over to the Potions' Master.

"What is this?" Snape opened the box, inside nestled another, smaller box, a jewelry case. Inside that rested a grimy, but very stately opal and emerald ring.

"I intend for you to give this to Miss Granger."

Severus choked on the mint for several moments before composing himself. "Are you suggesting I PROPOSE to Hermione?"

"Calm down!" Dumbledore had laughed, an annoyingly knowing laugh. "By no means. I just need you to give the ring to her. It belongs to her, it seems…"

"Why not give it to her yourself?" Snape's mask was once again in place, and his face unreadable. "Or have McGonagall give it to her…"

"Well it's tricky. You see, Trelawney found it in some alcove off one of the third floor corridors, and seems to have had a very interesting vision…"

"Trewlaney?" Snape muttered. Whatever was going on couldn't be good, if that charlatan was behind it.

"Well yes, I can understand you are skeptical, but I think in this case it is safe to assume that what she saw was real."

"And what.." Snape knew he would regret asking, "Did she see?"

"Well among other things," Dumbledore coughed, although his eyes still had that twinkle, "She saw you throw the ring at Hermione's head."

"And did I hit her?" He replied in an almost bored tone, drumming his fingers on the table, trying not to glance at the ring. It had a strange pull.

"That my dear boy, would be messing too much with the future to tell you. But the ring belongs to Granger, and you have to give it to her. Or should I say, chuck it at her."

He received a long glare for his efforts.

"Why the long face? I am sure it will be the highlight of your day."

"As much as this may surprise you Albus, I am not a fan of inflicting bodily harm on my students, even snobs like Granger. Now, if you will excuse me…" Snape had picked up the jewelry box and swept out of the room, black robes trailing behind him like the robe of the Grim Reaper.

* * *

After another dangerously long swallow of the firewhisky, Snape put it away; he had no desire to push his luck and fall back to that bad habit. Shoving the ring among a pile of papers, he wandered the perimeter of his lab, checking on his projects. Regardless of what Sybil professed to see, he was not going to ever lose his temper and throw a ring at a student.

The idea was ridiculous.


	2. Ebony Touch

"Blimey, does he ever wash his hair?"

"Sod off Ron." Hermione barked crankily, nose buried in a book. "Of course he washes his hair. It's not greasy at all - just really, really black."

"Mi'ne?" Ron peered over her book quizzically. "How would you know that?" He was a bit put off by her swearing at him, but not too much. Lately she had been on edge, and who knew why?

"I touched it. And my name is not Minny." The page turned as she scrutinized the arithmancy text, memorizing number formations and equations.

"You touched his HAIR?" Ron's face had gone white, from either horror or jealousy, and his hair seemed at least two shades redder than normal.

"Yes, I needed it for a potion." Hermione glared slightly above the pages of her text. They did not need to know what potion Dumbledore had her brewing every time Snape was called away. Malfoy could not be trusted, for the sake of his father more than for being himself, and Hermione was oddly the only other student that Snape had not killed Dumbledore for suggesting. She had needed a stock of his hair to be able to add at any time, as it had to be added at the time of the brewing, and Snape could hardly owl her a lock from a Deatheater meeting. And since Snape had not been inclined to allow her the use of his lab, Hermione had been forced to turn her precious head girl walk in closet into a mini-lab of her own. She snickered softly, remembering the look on his face when she had asked for some of his hair. After some extended spluttering, he had cut his hair with his wand a good three inches and sent the remnants into four tiny bundles in her hand. He had stalked off, livid, swearing under his breath at Dumbledore as she discreetly carried the important ingredient up to her rooms. His hair had been soft, like feather down, she mused – and then promptly slapped herself inwardly for the unwanted thought.

"You touched his hair." Ron repeated, dumbfounded, and Hermione snapped her book closed.

"Yes, I did, now hand me a roll will you? I'm starved." Breakfast was hardly the time for such conversations, and she really did not want Ron noticing her blush.


	3. Sapphire Oddities

"If you cannot concentrate, Mr. Weasely, then I at least suggest you refrain from trying to kill your classmates.

"Sorry Professor." Ron mumbled, most unapologetically, and added the next ingredient on his list. His potion turned blue, and he frowned. Was that the correct reaction?

"Five points from Gryffindor." Snape growled, surprising most with his leniency. Twenty points would have been more normal. Was Snape going soft?

"What?" Ron snapped, and the class was disabused of their musings as Snape dumped Ron's potion over his head.

"THAT'S FRIGGIN COLD!" Ron jumped up, shivering, his nose turning blue.

Hermione jumped out of her seat, her wand ready to cast the counterspell.

"Sit down Granger." Snape ordered, his voice colder than Ron. "You can repair your dear Mr. Weasely after class, until then he can reflect upon the importance of good concentration."

Hermione glared daggers, even while adding her next ingredient at the correct time.

"C-C-Can I h-hav-v-ve a b-blank-ket S-ir?" Ron asked politely in a small voice.

"No. In lei of your botched potion, I expect three feet on the making and effects of said potion on my desk by tomorrow."

Ron was wise enough not to argue, and class continued as normal until a strange expression passed over Snape's face. He quickly retreated into his office, where he remained a good twenty minutes before returning, flustered. Ron would be near an ice cube by now, and almost in anger, Snape cast the counter spell – only it had already been cast, in part.

"GRANGER!" Snape whirled on the girl, his robes not far behind. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't take the spell off Sir!" She protested honestly.

"I know that! But you cast a dampening spell!"

"No, I didn't!" Hermione protested again. "But I am glad for whoever did! That freezing potion is dangerous!" She met his gaze haughtily, adding her last ingredient potion in reflex.

It turned the proper color – damn her too.

"Well then miss Granger, you can serve detention proudly knowing you are taking the place of Weasely's guardian angel. Now finish your notes before class ends." He stalked away again, and left her scribbling furiously.

She suddenly found her handwriting changing, into a much slower, more elegant script. At that pace, she would never finish!

_But a stitch in time saves nine…_

Hermione growled at herself, her hand refusing to write any faster. And what was with her notes?

'And therein the properties of saide potion doest make themselves most clear betwixt the change of hue to russet and the smell of purest hickory….'

Hermione growled, twitching her hand and forcing it most painfully to write what SHE wanted, and managed to finish and bottle her potion just as he bell rang. Her label was strangley flowered in its writing. 'Ye Olde Potion de Transmorgation' She hoped the potions professor did not find the oddly scripted paragraph too out of place. Who knew where it was from?

She left the class hurriedly; she had a sudden craving for chamomile tea.


	4. Daimond Mysteries

Hermione had not expected a black eagle type bird to drop a letter in her lap at dinner, nor to find an unsigned parchment spilling into her lap. It was covered in a strange, beautifully elegant hand, with text that seemed at least two hundred years out of place.

More importantly, it was discussing the potion she had created just that morning in class!

'The lady shows most excellent insight, having deliberated many hidden meanings of such a rare and beneficial potion as the Potion de Transmorgation. In so keeping I should add a discourse of my own, as some such factors have been overlooked, no doubt an oversight of my lady's educational institution. Did you know that this self same professed potion, when brewed under a full moon with edelweiss flowers crushed with newt tongue, rather than tail of dopplegar, has in it such properties as too to transport the mind to another phase of existence? Or that when set out at midday at the height of spring, loses its poison and becomes a flavorful tea enjoyed by many in the Royal Court?'

The letter went on, and at first Hermione thought it was a joke. But it went on for pages! Different recipes, such a wealth of information! She excused herself, to Ron's displeasure, and raced up to her room to read. Who could have written such a beautiful letter, as old fashioned as it was, and how had they known of her schoolwork? A ghost? A teacher? She reread it many times, until common sense took her and she simply had to focus on her homework.

* * *

The next day, however, was not so grand. Hermione perched in her seat, working diligently as their papers were passed back. Her potion had received an A, but she was worried about her notes. They were so disjointed, she could not blame him if he gave her a B….

"Granger." The voice was strangely quiet, and her parchment was thrust back at her, covered in angry red scrawls. At the top was simply an 'F', followed by the word 'PLAGIARIZED'.

"Excuse me!" Hermione shot up out of her chair, nearly toppling it over. "What is this about?"

"Miss Granger sit down. Under normal circumstances I would assign you detention for what you pulled, but considering it was only one paragraph, I will assume it was only a quote entered in poor form." For all the his words stung, her teacher seemed very subdued. The class, meanwhile, was sniggering and enjoying the show.

"It was not anything! I wrote every word of this! ME! Just what in blasted hell do you think I copied from?"

"Language Granger! And twenty points from Gryffindor. I do not tolerate plagiarism in this class from anyone over anything. Considering you have memorized every book in Hogwarts, I fail to see why you would resort to such methods to begin with."

"I DID NOT COPY!" Hermione was nearly crying, embarassed by the stares. "How DARE you accuse me!"

"Detention Granger!" Snape slammed a book down hard on his desk, knocking a small box to the floor. He picked it up with his wand with barely a glance, shoving it into a drawer and locking it.

"Answer me!" Hermione was far past angry. "I have never cheated in my life, professor!"

"If you find another explanation, feel free to voice it." Snape stared Hermione down. "In the mean time, come to my office if you wish to see concrete proof of your crimes, since you seem to believe yourself so innocent."

Hermione followed Snape, even as he barked at Draco to watch the class, and sat down in the chair he gestured at. He picked up a sheaf of yellowing papers that smelled oddly like lilacs. She would not normally have noticed, except that she had opted for a lilac perfume that morning for no reason in particular except a 'feeling'. "Do you know who these belong to?" Snape asked, pushing the papers to her. "As obviously you have seen them.

"I have never seen these before in my life." Hermione shook her head. "But the handwriting seems familiar." Now why had she blurted that out?

"It should, considering you copied a paragraph of that exact paper in her exact handwriting."

"Whose?"

"You honestly don't know." Snape was looking at her intently, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he was trying to read her mind. That made her uncomfortable, so she started doing mental arithmancy equations. He cursed under his breath. Finally, he sat back and steepled his fingers. "Amelia Dartmouth…later, Amelia Granger."

"Granger?"

"Yes. Your great great great grandmother, I suspect." Snape growled slightly. "She wrote a paper on the Transmorgation potion, a paper you copied, whether knowingly or unknowingly."

"Sir…" Hermione interuppted slowly. "Did you write me a letter yesterday?"

"Write you a letter?" Snape stared. "What possible reason would I have for writing you a letter? Stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not! It's just, someone wrote me back about my potions notes. And I was wondering, besides you, who might have seen them…"

"No one." Snape huffed. "I guard the student's homework carefully. What exactly was the nature of this letter?"

"Well, it was in old English, like this, only a gentleman's hand. He did not sign it…it was wonderful reading though! All these changed to the transmorgation potion, how to make it a tea or change your facial features, even connect your mind to another plane of existence! I wish I knew who wrote it, it was such a lovely piece -"

"Granger!" Snape interrupted her reverrie, thrusting another sheaf of parchments into her hands. "Did it look like this?"

Hermione glanced over the papers. "Did you go into my room?" She nearly shouted, before calming. "Wait, this is not the same - almost though. A near identical copy, except for minor handwriting variances and the signature.." She looked at Snape incredulously. "Lord Richard Aidan Snape?"

"My great great great grandfather." He said slowly, as if the words hurt to force themselves out of his mouth.

"Is someone playing a joke on us?" Hermione's eyes went wide.

"I think something is indeed affecting us." The professor stood, gazing out the window even as his familiar flew in to settle himself on his arm. "And I doubt it's a joke."

"Well I aim to find out!" Hermione huffed, staring at Snape's bird.

"Stop gaping, Granger." Snape did not turn, instead stroking the feathers of his familiar. "Get back to class, and you still have detention."

Hermione laughed, and then he did turn. He was not expecting that reaction. "What?" He queried, curious.

She giggled again, looking at his bird. "I thought eagles ate snakes?"

Snape grimaced. "Back to class, Granger."

Ooc:

For those wondering about Hermione having a witch in the family – I think it is possible that many muggle born magic users might have witches and wizards somewhere up the family tree, just not in the immediate generations.


	5. Obsidian Incidents

Hermione scrubbed the cauldrons to an introspective rhythm, keeping to her pace with a half smile when she realized it was annoying Snape. As much as he tried to ignore her, buried as he was in coating student essays with scathing comments, every minute or so his cheek muscle would twitch in rhythm with her scrubbing.

"That is enough!" He conceded at last.

"Enough of what, Sir?" Hermione asked in an innocent tone, trying not to let her smirk betray her amusement.

"Finish the cauldrons by magic, then drop your wand on my desk and organize the bookshelves."

"Yes Sir!" Hermione nearly tipped the pot over in excitement. Cleaning them with the help of her wand was a breeze, and even entrusting her wand to her far from likeable potions' professor was worth getting to look at the bookshelf behind his desk.

"Try not to get any drool on them, they are very expensive." Snape sneered, and Hermione was glad she was not facing towards him. Normally she prided herself on her emotional control, but Snape could always find something to set her on edge or make her blush. "Well, Granger?" He asked when she had not moved for over a minute. "I realize that you are married to your books Granger, but this detention is no time for a Honeymoon. Organize now, the system should be self explanatory, and explore your love life with the printed page once out of my sight, please."

"Yes Sir." She said much more quietly, reverently placing each book in order. So many potions, so many secrets. Fame, fortune, looks, deception, truth, time, death, life, if only she had access to such a wealth of knowledge! Hungrily she memorized titles even as she placed them in Snape's complicated but efficient system. There were few out of order to begin with, so she had to hunt for the strays. Perhaps she could see if any of the books at Flourish and Blott's matched any of these, although somehow she doubted it. A deep green leather-bound tome seemed to sigh under her touch, and she stroked the spine of it gently. An ornate silver spine adorned the book, she could tell that it to culminated in a strong lock across the front as she pulled it out slightly. It actually was in order, but she wanted to see it. With such vibrant Slytherin colors, she expected it to hiss, instead it let off a gentle purr that she found oddly amusing. No author's title splashed across the book, nor photo, such blemishes would have scarred the soft beauty of the leather. Tilting it, she could almost imagine it was a journal, and replaced it with a giggle at the thought of Snape keeping a diary.

_Dear Diary, took 80 points from Gryffindor today. Won three staring contests with various Slytherins (Who do they think they are fooling? Obviously I always win.) Gave Potter detention, caught Draco snogging Pansi in the hall. Albus has another crack-pot scheme, if only strangling the headmaster was allowed._

"Pray tell what ARE you giggling at? Not that it matters - but I am trying to concentrate here."

"Am I distracting you professor?" Hermione asked cheekily. The thought of Snape spilling his feelings to anyone or anything, even a piece of paper, was too funny. Perhaps it was just the stress of homework plus detention with her worst nightmare, well, close to it, but she could not stop laughing.

"Please! Five points from Gryffindor!"

"For laughing?" Hermione giggled harder. Snape tried to scowl but found the expression hard to manage, something was making him want to smile to. Of course, that made it all the worse.

"Ten Points!"

"To Gryffindor." Hermione finished his sentence, actually having the audacity to wink at him before continuing on with her task, abandoning her giggles in favor of whistling 'Greensleeves'.

It was too bad the books really were already organized, she mused, trailing a curl of her hair with one of her fingers. What she would do for such a library! She smiled, still whistling the tune invading her mind. The whole room smelled like lavender for some reason, she was surprised she had not noticed earlier. Changing her whistle to a melodic hum, Hermione swayed gently back and forth, almost dancing as she put the books away. Snape must be livid! A part of her mind warned, but the rest scoffed. It's his favorite song, the other part of her responded. Now how in the hell would I know that? Hermione stopped her dance, scrunching her forehead in puzzlement.

The yelling she expected never came, instead, a warmth connected itself to her back, lean, skilled hands seeking her own. "Shall we dance, milady?" A voice murmured in her ear, and Hermione found herself responding almost in a trance.

"Certainly good Sir, although the lack of a chaperone would make this seem improper." Snape whirled her in his arms out onto the floor, flicking his wrist until the charmed Greensleeves tune filled the air with a soft and insistent, hypnotic harmony.

"Not at all milady!" Snape twirled her with such elegance Hermione felt flattered. Surely she was still dreaming? "To not dance with such beauty would be a far greater crime."

"And to find a partner so skilled as you would be a fearsome task, milord."

"Amelia why have you avoided me for so long? You promised you would never leave, and then one day –"

"I am so sorry Richard." Hermione rested her cheek on her professor's shoulder, a tear trailing down her face. "I had too, there was no choice. One of us had to go Richard, and I had far, far less to lose."

"No, love, I lost everything that ever mattered to me. I lost you."

"I'm here now."

"Yes, you're here now." He breathed, and Hermione found her hand entangled in soft, soft hair as black as night, just tasting the spice of tender lips meeting her own. The moment her tongue glanced against his, a cautious exploration, she stepped back into his desk, fighting the pull on her mind.

"What's going on?" She shrieked, trembling and not out of fear. Whatever was happening, she had enjoyed that. Hermione swallowed, pushing thoughts of an ancient, short lived crush out of her mind.

Snape seemed in shock, standing as a gentleman for a moment before his face was overtaken in a sudden range.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor, for trying to seduce a teacher for grades." He shissed coldly, marching behind his desk and shuffling papers.

"I didn't." Hermione hissed. "You called me Amelia, and you kissed me!"

"You called me Richard, and I think you would be the last person, on this planet, whom I would ever entertain the notion of swapping saliva with in a fruitless exercise." Snape's voice dropped until he was almost whispering. "Now if you will go, I have papers to grade, and you have been more than a distraction enough for one night."

"Sod off you bastard!" Hermione slapped him as hard as she could. "I know you did not kiss me of your own free will, but you have no right to pretend it bloody didn't happen! If you will not tell me what in friggin Hades is going on, then I am going to Dumbledore, THIS INSTANT."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for assaulting a teacher - Ten for language." Snape stood up and towered over her.

Hermione slapped him again. "Take all the points off you want! But you will not ignore me on this!"

"Indeed." Snape caught her wrist, neatly sidestepping the table. "It would seem you are intent on waking up the castle with screaming, and beating your teachers to death in petty fits." He snapped each word out with prescision.

"Petty?" Hermione tried to pull her hand away, but he had caught it tightly. "Let go!"

"Not until you calm down, miss Granger." Severus enunciated the words slowly, trying to regain his composure. Granger, it seemed, had other ideas.

She kissed him, oh gods, she kissed him.

And she knew exactly what she was doing.


	6. Ruby Duels

Thanks to all those who have reviewed!

* * *

"Granger…" Snape tried to get in a word edgewise with her lips on his. Her anger was palpable, but he could taste a hunger underlying it as well - that was interesting. Damn, the girl knew how to kiss too. Was it his fault if he accidentally left his mouth open after saying her name, allowing her access? "What tare y -" His words were muffled by the kiss, which he stilled himself not to respond to. He found himself wanting to, which did nothing for his temper or his nerves, but damn the girl was good! He winced, his leg bumping the desk as he was backed up further by the insufferable Gryffindor. She finally broke off, but he was too busy breathing and keeping his face strait to notice.

"THAT you can take off points for." She said defiantly. "After you let go of my wrist." She glanced pointedly at her hand, still caught in his, as if that had been the sole reason for the kiss.

"I am not so easily bribed Granger." He snorted, but gave her arm its freedom with a forceful jerk. "You just earned yourself a further week of detention, and an additional twen…"

She kissed him again, which shut him up.

"Try that again," He warned with as many daggers in his eyes as he could muster, "And I will not be liable for the consequences."

"Yes, I know you know every hex in existence." She drawled, moving to sit down in the chair by the desk, cocking her head up at him. "Will you tell me what is going on now?"

"Besides that you have lost your MIND?" He asked, white knuckles clutching the desk. How dare a student slap him! Well, kiss him for that matter but she had bloody slapped him, twice! The vixen! "And that obviously you and your friends are up to more than studying all the time?"

"Just what do you mean by that?" Hermione hissed. While she had no idea what had made her kiss Snape, she had to admit the affect was worth it. For him to raise his voice land lose his composure meant he wasn't angry, he was off-balance. And he couldn't really do anything, could he? He had kissed her as Richard, and he doubted he wanted Dumbledore to find that out.

Snape turned his dark eyes on her, daring her to look away. "You obviously learned how to do that thing with your tongue somewhere." He informed her, however the intimidation factor apparently sent her into another fit of laughter. [Had he just lost a staring contest?].

"What thing with my tongue professor?" She asked innocently.

"That thing!" Snape huffed. "Which one was it? Weasely I suppose, tall men tend to have a natural talent, although I would think the thought sickening, myself…"

"You're tall, professor." Hermne said bluntly, rewarded with a flash of anger in his eyes, and something else? Perhaps she was pressing her luck, baiting him like this was cruel. "But no, I never kissed Ron, or Harry Sir." She muttered lowly. "Not even Krum Sir." She watched his eyes really go wide this time. Who knew such tactics would work? She could not resist, no matter how many points he took, his face was worth every one. "And I really don't know what you mean by the tongue thing Sir, I have never done that before…"

"THIS tongue thing." Snape grabbed her face gruffly, forcing his mouth onto hers, sucking roughly and then more gently, tracing the contours of her mouth. She stood shock still, letting him explore, not sure how to respond. She had written the rules for this contest of wills, and damn if she was going to lose. She tried not to lose her composure, as part of her was horrified, part scared to death, and a third part wanting badly to kiss him back for an unexplained reason. His tongue was good, he was good, she noted, every bit as skilled as she would have expected him to be, and he was sending tingles down to her toes. Not that she had much to compare him too…

He broke away, looking down with firey black eyes, expecting to see her breathless and melting at his patented touch. Ok, well maybe not patented, but he knew he was good…oh hell, who was he fooling? Granger had good reason to hate his guts.

"You missed a spot, professor." Was her only response.

After that, neither was really liable for the consequences….


	7. Emerald Passion

Hermione pushed Snape off gently as the clock struck 11, sitting up on his desk. They had been tongue dueling for the past half hour, each trying to outdo the other. "I have homework." She said cooly. "And I doubt you wish to engage further in any useless swapping of saliva."

"Sarcasm does not become you Granger." Snape sat up as well, quite dignified, holding a lean finger to the side of his nose and gently tapping. "Normally I would not consider it, however I do believe every one not planning to join a church should be trained as to the proper form and manner of kissing. Too often the masses of the unskilled are left unchecked, to slobber daily over future crushes and love interests. You seem to have an innate talent, which you should cultivate."

"Did you just give me a compliment?" Hermione blinked.

"However –not- in my dungeon and never again with me. Is that clear?" He straitened his mussed robes, immediately returning to his seat and straitening his papers out.

"Yes Sir." Hermione blushed and slid off the desk, trying not to get in his way. He was ignoring her, his quill back to it's furious pace, their elevated breathing the only sign that they had been passionatley kissing moments before. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and waited.

"Why are you still here?" Snape asked after several minutes, not looking up.

"You -" Hermione swallowed as her voice came out in a squeak. "You never did tell me what was with the Richard-Amelia thing…"

Snape sighed, as if releasing ten years of tension all at once. "That mess." He reached down to one of the desk drawers, unlocking it with his wand and pulling out a box.

"Catch Granger."

She found herself knocked in the forehead with a sharp object, lazily registering a ring clanging off the ground before blacking out.

"Damn you Albus!" Severus hollered as his spell kept her from hitting the ground (too hard). He shoved the ring in her hand and flooed her quickly to her head girl quarters, leaving the atrociously decorated place even more quickly. The only thing acceptable in there was her makeshift potions lab.

Red and Gold, what awful gaudy colors. He was glad to return to the sanctity of his dungeoun. Snape scowled, pulling out a green bound book from his shelf and unlocking it. Such a nice book, who would ever suspect it of being his personal journal? Though his lips still were full and searing from the night of kissing, he smiled and began to write.

_Dear diary, 100 points from Gryffindor today, most from a certain know-it-all….._

Good Merlin, she could kiss.


	8. Moonstone Crisis

Thanks for all the reviews! This plot is in response to a WIKTT challenge "With this Ring"...

* * *

Hermione yawned stiffly, a hand finding her still tingling mouth as she slept. Where was she? Ahhh, in her room. Her room? Hermione looked down. She was fully clothed still, she must have slept in her school robes. Her forehead was pounding worse than a migraine, and she vaguely remembered passing out when Snape had thrown something at her.

A ring? She opened a fist, the curves of the ring having dug their way into her flesh to leave a very clear imprint of the design. It was quite an ornate and lovely piece, she mused, although the text inside made no sense to her. It was a strange language, she would have to double check with the _Wizard's Dictionary of all the Languages in Existence: Muggle, Magical, and Mythical._

Wait - why was she thinking of notes at a time like this! Snape had thrown a ring at her - a ring! - knocked her out, and she was in her room [he wouldn't do anything - right?].

Why had her teacher given it (rather, thrown it) at her? [It was not like last night had meant anything, had it?]

Her head was spinning with too many thoughts, and her heart felt tight.

Glad for the solitude of her chambers, Hermione walked over to the mirror and began muttering the spells to calm her hair and brighten her face. Two people obviously not interested in a relationship had simply decided to have a moment of stress relief and show off their skills outside the classroom – but if that was it, why was she still shaking?

She thought of Snape's indifference afterwards, compared to her own flushed face in the mirror. Clearly, Snape had won the duel.

Hermion shook her head. "There is no way I like him." She insisted to herself, copping a sneer much like one of his and staring her reflection down. "Just you DARE think otherwise Hermione Granger." She lectured to herself, and placed the ring on the stand. She hoped for a better explanation later, perhaps it was part of the mystery? "Reveal your secret." She glared at it, it merely twinkled in response.

Sighing, Hermione ran her wand over her ringlets, then stopped. Since when had she had ringlets? Since when had her hair even worked with ringlets? "Oh shoot! I said a spell wrong!" She panicked, wondering what she had done to style her hair in old fashioned curls rather than leave it hanging. The magical clock on the wall chimed angrily.

"Behind schedule!" It snapped in a matronly tone. "Breakfast starts in two minutes!"

"Oh." Hermione changed in a hurry and grabbed her robes, pulling them on as she dug for her school bags. She had left her books in detention! Blast it!

At least it was her first class…

"My homework is not finished!" She wailed in the emptiness of her room. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. No food, if I skip breakfast I can run up to the infirmary and get a note. I am sure being unconscious is a good excuse for being late with homework? The Head Girl bit her lip. It was not going to be a good day.


	9. Firestone Searching

Hermione found herself in the library with all homework finished and little to do. Going to Pomfrey seemed to have been a mistake, as Dumbledore had been there for some odd reason. He had listened to her talking to Pomfrey, and had ordered her to take the day off without a second blink. At least Winky was updating her on that day's homework as her classes went by, so she had that to do too.

The head girl curled up on one of the window sills, books surrounding her on all sides and the ring glinting in the window. She would figure it out, she had to.

Squinting, she perused her notes:

1. The ring displays no magical properties, other than that it seems to have been enchanted by all the rules of Gruddings Checklist for Enchantments and Embedded Spells.

2. Opal is a moderately hard stone; the opal in the ring is a 6 on the Mohs scale. Opal is non-crystalline, solidified from gelatinous silica. It's hard to identify precisely what type of opal this is, I may need to consult a gemologist. It seems to be closest to the descriptions of the white crystal opal, with moderate translucence and a beautiful play of iridescent colors, but there is a firey streak in the heart of it that seems unusual.

a. Because opals capture all the colors of light and all other gems, this makes them especially adaptable to many complex magic spells. It has also led to their use as 'magic batteries', storing great amounts of magic for later use that cannot be held in other gemstones.

_"There is in them a softer fire than in the carbuncle, there is the brilliant purple of the amethyst; there is the sea-green of the emerald - all shining together in incredible union. Some by their refulgent splendor rival the colors of the painters, others the flame of burning sulphur or of fire quickened by oil." - Pliny the Elder_

b. It is in good condition, it has probably been well protected from heat and strong light. The ring is amazingly clean, but I assume any cleaning was done magically due to the mint condition of the opal.

3. Metaphysical purpose of opal: Imagination, Foresight, bestowing beauty, prophecy, innocence, purity, good health, protection against danger, enhancer of personal power, charm, energy amplifier, amplifying and mirroring feelings, clarifying hidden desires, passion, lessen inhibitions, promote spontaneity - [Heh, that would explain some things].

a. Opal by nature, while it is well suited to store magic and spells, is very hard to enchant so as to turn into a magical object itself. As such, doing so tends to only work for light spells or spells naturally in tune with the stone itself. The use of opal with a dark spell generally causes such spell to backfire. Some cases in history have even had drastic consequences - so it is doubtful someone would try to enchant an opal with an intent to harm [I hope].

4. The emerald; green beryl. A general healing stone, promoting love. Positivity, perseverance, fidelity, honesty, memory, manifestation, abundance. Commonly used in nature magic, possible connections with the etheric plane.

5. The firestone and the 'green fire', definitely a ring of passion and love. Ornate design, possibly late 1800's.

6. Possible connections to me:

Amelia Dartmouth [Granger]? My great-great-great-grandmother. [So I have been told].

Richard Aidan Snape. [Snape's great-granddaddy. Now there's a picture].

Prof. Severus Snape [well, he threw it at me!]

Dumbledore? [He is behind everything after all]

* * *

Getting up, Hermione padded over to a nearby shelf and snagged several copies of Who's Who. They were dated between 100-300 years ago, and since each covered witches and wizards over 50 years, she hoped at least one would mention one of the enigmatic figures.

Richard Snape turned out to be easy to find, and Hermione hastily started scrawling out notes, making no move to be all that legible, although her hands were creating letters much like Amelia's. Richard had lived near the beginning of the nineteenth century, a born gentleman and the son of an Earl. A wizard with incredible talent, he had married Ermingard Black a decade after graduating Hogwarts with enough OWLS to make Hermione jealous. Lists of his credentials could be found in several books, not just the "Who's Who".

Finding Amelia Granger was another matter entirely.


	10. Agate Conversations

"Glad you could be bothered to show up for detention," Snape drawled from behind his desk, "Since coming to class seemed to much for you."

"It was not as if I had a choice." Hermione could not help but roll her eyes. "Dumbledore and Pomfrey kept me from all my classes, even Arithmancy and Charms!"

"That must have been painful." Severus snorted, glancing at Hermione's hand surreptitiously. She was not wearing that foul piece of jewelry, at least. "There will be no such excuses in the future."

"Well, it is your fault I missed my classes." Hermione huffed and hopped up on a stool, scrunching up her robes. "If you had not knocked me out - "

"Dumbledore told me to throw it at you! He did not enlighten me as to the consequences." Severus scowled and went back to nitpicking Potions' papers.

"He told you to throw it at me?" The Gryffindor blinked. "Just what does he know about all this? I mean, I thought he might be connected somehow, when I was taking notes and researching today."

"He knows something." Severus twitched his nose, which was itching for some strange reason. Perhaps the dungeons needed aerated again, although he was not about to let Sprout make the place smell like roses again. The last time had been a disaster. "Trelawney had a vision of a sort that Albus seems to have taken seriously."

"Trelawney? Then we are in trouble." Just when she thought things could not get any more confusing.

"All mysteries aside, you do have a dungeon to be cleaning. You may use your wand; I want every room on this floor cleaned spotless, except the Slytherin common room and dormitories. This parchment lists the passwords for the Slytherin prefects bathrooms, which will be changed after tonight - so do not get any funny ideas about coming back for pranks."

"Of course not professor." Hermione nodded, taking the paper.

"Go, go, I do prefer silence when working."

Hermione shrugged and started walking for the door; it was certainly not a bad detention at all. Although, it was not as nice as the one where he had showed her that tongue trick.

"Out!" Snape shouted from behind her. "And ten points from Gryffindor for inappropriate thoughts."

Severus scowled at her back as she ran out after his outburst. He did not even need to be an expert at legilimency to pick up that turn of thought. At least Dumbledore seemed not to be noticing his prior indiscretions with the Granger girl, but then, a challenge was a challenge. She had challenged him, and it would have been a sign of weakness to back down. To her credit, she had not made a fool of herself.

In fact, she had performed quite admirably.

Severus almost allowed himself to smile as he scratched his quill to paper and flunked another Gryffindor.


	11. Peridot Sins

Hermione rolled her shoulders gently, her arm starting to ache from wand waving. Cleaning spells were rarely all encompassing, and even her exhaustive knowledge of charms was not helping her make a dent very quickly. Sighing, she brushed ringlets from her face and dug in her pocket for the strange ring. While it was too gaudy for her tastes, it had a certain majesty about it and the nostalgia in it was palpable. Almost without a thought, she slipped it on her ring finger before continuing in to the next empty classroom.

"Incendio." Hermione lit the torches by he doorway for light and heat, earning startled gasps and cries from the far end of the room, still hidden in the darkness. "Lumos!" She shouted, pointing her want towards the dark end of the room, then "stupefy!"

"Are you all right?" The Gryffindor rushed over gracefully, glancing only once at the unconscious form of Draco. The startled and scared, half dressed fourth year was of more immediate concern.

"Ye, yes.." The younger girl squeaked finally, swallowing and looking at Draco. Hermione followed her gaze. The young man's shirt was completely off, revealing a surprisingly firm chest with an odd spider network of scars. His trousers were still on, but undone, and Hermione looked away flushing.

"That was something I did not need to see." She shuddered and steeled herself. "Get dressed." She ordered the girl. "What exactly have you done with him?"

"Wellll, he says not to tell. It's a secret."

"Not anymore." Hermione glared. "Look, you are not going to get in trouble, not as much as you think. You are 14 and Draco is 18, if he touched you, the school needs to know."

"But it _is_ my fault." The girl's voice was barely a whisper.

"What?"

"Please don't be mad!" She cowered a bit, as if afraid of being hit. While even Hermione doubted Draco had beat the girl, she had no doubt that he would be – rough, with whatever girl kindled his favor. "It's my fault for being a flirt."

"Did he say that?"

"I – it was only a couple times. I won't get expelled will I?"

"Of course not!" Hermione guided the girl gently over to an empty desk, motioning for her to put her shirt back on. The girl's skin was bruised gently, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Draco had seduced her, no doubt, and while he probably had not raped her, he had no doubt taken advantage of her. "Here." Hermione grabbed parchment and wrote out a flowery note to Madam Pomfrey. "Take this." She folded the note into the crying girl's hand, picking up the girl's Hufflepuff robes and tucking them around her shoulders. "Amy is it? I want you to take this note to Madam Pomfrey. She will keep you tomorrow in the hospital wing. This is not going to be easy on you, but you have to be strong, ok? It isn't your fault and you are a very special person."

"He said no one would want me except.."

"He was wrong." Draco was obviously taking lessons from Lucius, Hermione seethed inwardly. She grabbed a small case of floo powder from her pocket, lighting a fire in the empty classroom grate. She through a pinch in, and helped Amy through. "Hospital Wing!" She called as the girl vanished through.

"I was dead right." A cold voice sounded behind her. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione felt her wand ripped from her, then she was staring into icy eyes. "I doubt anyone would want you at all, even that way." Draco looked her over derisively. "Just what do you think you are playing at Granger?"

"That girl was 14!" Hermione shouted, clawing at Draco for her wand. He kept it safely out of reach.

"So? I didn't hear her complaining until you showed up, mudblood."

"Give me my wand back Draco, you could get expelled for this!"

"Nosy Granger." Draco rolled his eyes. "Just what possessed you to interfere?"

"I was cleaning. I have detention." Hermione glared back.

"I wonder what Snape would say to you loitering in classrooms." The pale haired boy cocked his head. "Making accusations at the headboy who was only helping a girl with her homework."

"Like he would believe that." Hermione snorted.

"You think he wouldn't?" Draco smirked. "He might be interested in how you threw yourself at me hoping I wouldn't tell, so I was forced to take your wand from you."

"You bastard." Hermione glared.

"No, I'm as pure as they come." Draco grabbed one of her ringlets and tugged. "You're the mudded up bastard. A real shame, too." He tapped his wand under her chin. "Come on Granger, I think Snape might be interested in this."


	12. Onyx Truths

"Professor Snape, sir."

Snape's delicate harvesting of sprigs of starthistle would have to wait. Couldn't the dungeons operate one night without some student coming to him with a problem? Draco was better than the usual visitor, but still -

"Look what I found wandering the halls."

It was a stifled cry that made Snape look up and set his jaw. Draco, his clothing rather rumpled, was holding onto Hermione's arm with a very fierce and wild grip. It was obvious it hurt. His wand was out as well. There were a few possibilities for what had occured, but most led to the same conclusion. Draco had probably picked a fight. Still, he couldn't side with a Gryffindor.

"Granger." Snape sat back nonchalantly. "Can't you clean toilets without causing trouble? Next detention I'll have you in the Forbidden Forest."

Draco swallowed. Hermione had had permission to be there, then. Come to think, there had been that incident in class. "She's mental!" Draco said quickly, shoving her into the room. "Saw me with my girlfriend, got all jealous. She kicked Amy out and started hitting on me."

"Amy's 14!" Hermione squeaked out.

"Shut up, shut up." Draco wrenched her around until she was kneeling on the stone floor. "As if I'd have you."

Snape stood, his voice dripping poison. "Just what do you think detention is, Miss Granger? Playtime?" Draco's story he would normally couldn't have believed - but hadn't Granger done the same thing to him? More insulting, had she used him as a warm-up? Was Draco her real target? Target? That was almost - Slytherin.

Granger looked at him squarely, as if daring him to doubt her. Even kneeling on the ground, she radiated pride and confidence. Amel- _make that Hermione_ – was a Gryffindor. He could not forget that. Her stare was frank, not clouded. Snape noticed her ringlets were mussed. He felt a sudden anger that _he_ hadn't been the one to muss them.

"She gave me this." Draco pulled on his shirt, revealing a hickey.

"Did she." Snape's voice dropped, as cold as ice.

Draco started at Snape's 180 change. "Yah...yah...she attacked me. She's wild..."

Snape smirked. _Wild, yes. I'll grant you that._ _Who knew. _He strode forward. He had simply to look into Draco's eyes was all he needed to ascertain what had happened, although even he was surprised at how easy it was to access the boys memories. The interchange with Granger was particularily vivid. He had to pull back quickly. Strange; hadn't Draco had at least some occlumency training?

Draco stumbled, a little dizzy, dropping his wand hand. His mouth dropped in horror. "Godfather, you -"

"I apologize." Snape waved a hand dismissively. "I didn't mean to intrude. Sometime's it's just accidental." He stared Draco down. "Especially if my instincts sense a lie."

Draco flushed. "It's, it's not a lie. This whore was out looking for trouble."

Hermione's eyes flashed molten.

"At this point Draco, I think it would be best if you returned to the dormitory." The teacher's words snapped out carefully, edges with razor blades. "I'll see that Granger doesn't get involved in matters that don't concern her."

"How can you say that!" Hermion bolted up, shaking the dizzy Draco off. "Amy's underage, and was covered in bruises! I'm sure Pomfrey will agree with me."

Draco whirled on Hermione, cupping her chin and snapping her head back. "Who cares, you slut! Just because I am not interested in how well you can shag does not mean that you can spin off a horde of sodding lies!"

"Let go of me Malfoy!" Hermione kicked Draco in the shin as Severus started, her gaze on him finally broken.

"Problem mudblood?" Draco hissed and arched her arm behind her back. "I suggest you stand quiet and let the professor see to your punishment. There's nothing Snape hate's more than a Gryffindor interferring in a Slytherin matter."

"I said, release me." Hermione hissed back through clenched teeth. "You're hurting me."

The Slytherin smiled as she struggled against him, leaning down to nip at the ear farthest from Snape's view. "But you said you liked it rough."

"MALFOY!" Two voices shouted at once. Draco dropped her arm in shock, stepping back, which was a wise move as Snape has his wand out and pointed towards him.

"Back away from Granger at once." Snape looked between the two. "Both of you, return to your dorms before I hex you into worms and feed you to Cavalon."

"Yes Sir." Malfoy squeaked in a strangled voice and fled from the room.

Hermione let out a breath. "Thank you, I did not.."

"OUT Amel..Miss Granger!" Snape shouted, his black eyes boring into hers. With a slight but proud nod, she turned heel and marched from the room, every bit the Gryffindor.

* * *

[Cavalon is his eagle/familiar].


	13. Jade Possibilities

Hermione fidgeted in her seat, sucking on one of Dumbledor's lemon drops and waiting for the HeadMaster to come back from conferring with McGonagall and Pomfrey.

"Ah, Miss Granger." The old man came in and smiled gently. "You will be pleased to know that Amy is doing quite well and responding both to minor medical treatment and counseling sessions. The girl told me to tell you thank you, she is quite scared though. She was wondering if you might come for a visit later?"

"Of course." Hermione said quickly. "She will need someone to look out for her." When Dumbledore did not speak for a minute, she trudged on. "Sir, can I ask, what will happen to Draco?"

"Well." Dumbledore paused again for an excruciatingly long period of time. "Mr. Malfoy will not be leaving Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione seethed.

"Listen carefully, I hope you will understand this. Lucius Malfoy is insisting that Draco only flirted with Amy, nothing more, and neither he nor Amy's parents will authorize the investigative use of more advanced charms on either of their children to ascertain the truth. Neither does Amy's family, nor Amy, wish to press charges of any sort. Young Malfoy will receive a weeks worth of detention and both Hufflepuff and Slytherin have lost points, but – "

"Detention?" She stood up and slammed her fit down on the desk. "He takes advantage of a fourth year and all he gets is a bloody week of detention?"

"I know it seems unfair, but you must understand that life is not always fair – "

"I know that." Hermione absent mindedly sucked an injured knuckle. "But this is your school and it is your responsibility to protect your students."

"I cannot protect everyone."

"No, you just like to meddle." Hermione humphed. "Like getting people involved with enchanted rings! Why don't you just toss us in boiling acid and save us the trouble of wondering what the mess is?"

"Enchanted, eh? I thought as much, what have you learned so far?"

"Well." Hermione paused, her mind channeling into a more academic mode. "I apparently had an ancestor who was a witch, when I always thought I was totally muggle born."

"Amelia Dartmouth?" Dumbledore steepled his hands. "I have heard of her, she left the wizarding world behind when she was in her twenties, had her wand broken for some reason or another. Pity, she was very much a genius at potions, apprentice to Richard Aidan Snape I believe, though not a well published one. She married a muggle chemist some months later, more for financial reasons than love I believe, and had three sons, and lived the rest of her life as a muggle. She attended Hogwarts a long time ago."

"How come no one ever told me? I mean if I had wizard blood…"

"Many muggle borns have wizard blood at some point in their past, but when a witch or wizard leaves the wizarding world, or is kicked out, they are treated as a muggle in all aspects. However, their descendents are watched a bit more closely. Hence you were on the Hogwart's list since you were two and a half, when most muggle borns are not identified till they are five or older."

"I think she and Snape were in love." Hermione mused to herself, barely registering Dumbledore's words. "I think, she gave up her position in the wizarding world so that he would not have to give something up. His position, perhaps, or his inheritance. Were the Dartmouth's an important family?"

"No, though they had a bit more status than some. A bit friendly with the Weasley line, but kept to themselves. Amelia was the last of them, even as Richard was the only heir at the time to the Snapes."

"Who did Richard marry?" A thousand questions were spilling into her mind.

"A Black, I believe."

Hermione started. "Professor Snape also mentioned a Black - Any relation to Sirius Black?"

"Same family line, she would have been a great great aunt or some such." Dumbledore shrugged. "Just what has been happening with the ring?"

"It is rather strange." Hermione admitted. "Even before Professor Snape threw it at me, weird things were happening. Both of us kept slipping into the personas of Richard Snape and Amelia Dartmouth. And more frequently tiny aspects of our actions or personalities seem to be theirs, like what tea we drink or our handwriting."

"Interesting, very interesting. I will have to do some checking, but I believe Amelia may have cast a spell on the ring, or rather, it is actually a potion one dips the object in. Translated it is called the essence of love, and heavily relies on raw magic in its brewing. It is a dangerous potion to make, and comes with a heavy price; namely a large bit of the power of the wizard or witch who brews it, but then Amelia would not have stayed in the wizarding community long after anyway. She left after the loss of her status, job, credentials, wand, everything she held dear - though I think everyone suspected Richard being the real reason. The Black family were very scathing with their ridicule of her and the possible sabotage of her career."

"Oh!" Hermione bit her lip and fiddled with the ring. "So, what now?"

"The Essence of Love potion traps feelings, memories, more particularly personalities, into an object. Rarely, such objects are left behind my wizards and witch's on their deathbeds, wishing to leave their families a token of themselves behind. Family members can then speak to another family member wearing the ring to ask advice, et cetera."

"How does that explain the double memories then? I mean it's not just me that's being affected." Hermione fought back a blush - Dumbledore would notice. "It's Snape too. I mean, professor Snape." Swallowing the last of the lemon drop, Hermione wished things made more sense.

"It is possible that Amelia gave the ring to Richard, who then created the same potion to dip it in before his death, or perhaps even sooner. A wizard of his strength would have had power to spare, and there were rumours that his powers were weakening towards the middle of his career. He had ordered a package be buried with him in his will, but the box was never found. I recall that much." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "It is also possible that Amelia brewed the potion for the both of them, she would only need a bit of his skin or hair. Such a loss of power would have left her a squib, and would explain the incompetence charges thrown at her. Or perhaps she used a different spell or potion, or perhaps the ring merely reacts to Amelia's memories of Richard and is so powerful that it can control multiple people." Hermione hastily wrote notes as Dumbledore tumbled off a half dozen theories in suscession. She had been suffering from lack of information just moments before - now it looked like there were too many things to narrow down!

"Just some thoughts," Dumbledore concluded, "but you had best get off to classes."

"Oh yes!" Hermione shrieked suddenly. "It's ten minutes to Charms, I'll be late!" Thoughts of the ring compartmentalized into a different section of her brain, she raced from the room.


	14. Beryl Shields

Beryl Shields

ooc:

To see the illustration (it's very old..):

angelfire dot com slash realm3 slash kingdomdawn slash ameliarichard dot jpg [You will have to replace dots and slashes with symbols].

Is it Amelia and Richard…or is it Snape and Hermione, so entranced by the spell they are cosplaying?

* * *

"Um, Hermione?"

Hermione reluctantly looked up from her arithmancy text. Ron was looming over her, shifting his weight. To be fair, she was supposed to be watching the boys playing quidditch right now – but it never hurt to multitask and get some studying done. "What is it Ron?"

"Well, that is, I wanted to say, you know..." He gulped, looking a bit dwarfed in all his keeper equipment, "that you look nice today, I mean, very girly."

"Ron, I am not sure if that is an insult or a compliment." Hermione laughed, "What do you mean?"

"Your hair, especially." Ron said shyly, his hand twitching a little as if he was holding back from touching it. "I really like the ringlets. But everything really – wearing perfume too, it's like you're glowing."

"...thank you." She wasn't sure how else to respond. "I have felt like wearing perfume lately, but I doubt I am going to become a Lavendar or Parvati anytime soon."

"I wouldn't want you too!" Ron insisted.

Harry swooped down on his broom, clapping Ron on the shoulder and nearly knocking him over. "Ron, breaks over, you're up."

"Have fun." Hermione offered as Ron mumbled something about "Sorry-ihavetogonowbutseeyoulater". She wasn't terribly paying attention, but reviewing her solutions for class instead. They were doing a section on Chaldean arithmancy, which was quite different from the normal Agrippan arithmancy, and so she was not yet confident in her calculations.

'HERMIONE' She thought for a moment about her name. 'Under the chaldean system, my character number is 8, my heart number is 9, my life number is 7. That is very different from the agrippan system, where my character number is 6, my heart 7, and my social/life number is 8.' She bit her lip. "I always did find basic name arithmancy sorely lacking, and mine certainly doesn't fit me. The chaldean makes far more sense – success, achievement and service, understanding and imagination – those do fit. Yet, if the Chaldean system was more accurate in general, surely it would not have been abandoned..." She set about scribbling notes, realizing it could be the topic of her next essay.

"Aiiiiih!"  
"Look out!"  
"What is that?"  
"Get a teacher!"

A large commotion on the quidditch field interrupted her study.

Part of the stands were burning! And fire seemed to be raining from the sky!

"Clear the field!" She hollered into the chaos, the boys were simply flying circles around each other. "Land in the field below the south pitch."

She jumped up, grabbing a spare broom and flying up to rally the scragglers to safety, blasting fireballs with her wand along the way.

"Really." She looked at all of them sternly. "Harry, you're the fasted flier, please go get a teacher or Dumbledore." Hogwarts would probably dislike a student flying in through the windows, but it was the best way. "Katie, help me set up a defensive barrier."

Harry set off immediately, though the smoke seemed to be chasing after him.

* * *

"What about the quidditch field?" Demelza asked. "I can dodge those fireballs! I know it!"

"Honestly, I am fairly sure we could save the quidditch field from further damage." Hermione assessed, "But the quidditch pitch will be easier to replace than a person if someone gets hurt."

Demelza sent a blast towards one of the fireballs, "We can at least blast them from here though, right?"

"We'll need someone to lay down cover-fire until the barrier is up." Hermione granted her permission to blast away.

Katie and her put their heads together, as a shield of that size would be difficult. The amount of area affected by the fireballs was expanding, and a smoke cloud was extending, already three times the size of the pitch, above their heads. Flying out was no longer an option.

"Perhaps shielding everyone individually would be best."

"Good idea." Hermione assented. "Everyone, once you've been shielded, head back to Hogwarts.

"Erprotegomos!" Hermione waited until a shimmer gave away the presence of the barrier around Ron, then shooed him away. "Go Ron."

He refused, turning instead to shield the next person, "Erprotogomos!" He shielded his sister Ginny. "I'm not leaving until you do." He insisted.

"Very well." Hermione nodded. There only were a handful of people to shield as it was. "Erprotogomos!" She shielded Cootes as Ron shielded Katie and Katie shielded Demelza.

"Watch out!" Demelza shouted.

A fireball was headed strait for the group that was left. "Run!" Hermione shouted, as her and Demelza blasted it to no avail. It was atop them in moments, the grass charred to ash and hot smoke filling the air.

Hermione couldn't see in the cloud of fire, her shield only giving her sight a foot in front of her. "Is everyone all right?" She shouted as loud as she could.

There was no response as the fire dissipated into a thick cloud of heavy black smoke.

"Anyone?"

"I'm ok." Ron's voice pierced through the cloud, and she was relieved. "But I think Peakes is down."

"I'll come to you." Hermione headed towards his voice.

"I'm all right as well." Katie coughed. "Some smoke got through the barrier, is all, it's a little hard to breathe. Demelza's here too. Unconscious, but not too hurt."

"Take her back to the castle if you can." Hermione was regretting her decision to let them stay at all, but at the fireballs rate of expansion, would any of them have been safe merely outrunning or outflying that firestorm? She worried for Harry.

"Ron." She found him at last. "erprotogomos, Levicorpus,". She swished her wand at the injured Peakes. He had not been shielded, but had fortunately been at the edge of the blast radius. Even still, he appeared to have heavy burns. "Let's get him to Madam Pomfrey right away."

The group stumbled out of the smoke cloud, in time to greet a pack of arriving teachers. Pomfrey was among them, and took charge of the injured immediately to tow them back to the infirmary.

* * *

"What is this?" McGonagall looked in horror up at the rain of fireballs. "How are they getting through the wards?"

"I don't think they are." Dumbledore sent up an icy blast that funneled itself into a snowstorm, raging about the quidditch pitch and putting out any remaining falling fireballs that dared to appear. "They seem to be originating just below the wards."

Hermione and the others hurried to get behind the teachers. One of them grabbed her arm as she passed.

"What exactly happened?" Snape snapped out.

"They just started falling, as deoflas from the sky." Hermione shivered, suddenly clutching him and crying into his robe. "We tried shielding everyone, but there wasn't time, they came too fast. Young Harold flew to seek aid."

"It would seem beneficial to add further shield instruction to the curriculum." He gripped her tightly, checking her over for wounds. "You are not wounded?"

"No, I am meet. My shield stood firm..." Hermione's eyes went wide, not the least because she was pressed against a firm chest. "Mr. Snape, how am I all right?"

"I assume your shield protected you."

"But I didn't have a shield." Hermione looked up. It was somehow easier to look him in the eye than obsess over the buttons running down his torso. _Eleven buttons... _She swallowed and double checked the sequence of events in her mind. "I hadn't cast it yet on myself, and I am sure Ron and Katie did not shield me when I was unaware."

"Someone must have cast it." Snape stroked her hair thoughtfully. "Shields don't just magically appear..."

They pushed back from each other, having a similar thought at the same time.

"You don't think -" She started.

"The ring -" he continued.

"Has a shield?" they both finished.

Ms. McGonagall strategically stepped between the two of them, frowning at the proximity. [A Griffindor and a Slytherin within two feet of each other, willingly? Forbid!]

Hermione blushed, hastily backing off, and fortunate the residual smoke probably hid anything they inadvertently might have done. Come to think, had she just hugged Snape and cried on him? She was going to give that ring a piece of her mind!

"That should do it, for a twinkle and a nod!" Dumbledore called to all of them. The quidditch pitch was indeed clear of both flaming projectiles and icy whirlwinds. The grass, however, was still burning in places.

"But the field." McGonagall looked about to cry.

"Nothing that can't be repaired in a week dear." Mrs. Sprout consoled her.

"Dumbledore?" Harry called down from his position hovering a few feet off the ground on his broom. "I think there is something odd about those burns."

"Now that you mention it..." Hooch, having arrived late to the scene but now surveying with considerable interest, took to her broom and flew up a dozen feet. "Headmaster, I recommend you get these children off of the field, now!"

"Snape, escort the students back to the castle." Dumbledore ordered, taking his own broom in hand to survey what it was the others had seen. "That includes you, Harry."

Hermione and Snape were both equally disgruntled on the trip back at being left out of the revelation of a secret.

* * *

"Some sort of letters." Harry whispered to her when they got back to the Gryffindor Common Room. "Burned into the grass. Those weren't just random fireballs."

"What did they say?" Hermione breathed out, almost afraid to ask.

"I could only make out a bit of it, I was at a bad angle, and I think the firestorm was interupted before it could finish, but there definitely was the word "DIE" and under that"DART, after that I think it said NO on the same line, and below that YOU and below that a TRA ."

"Could it have been an M, not an N?"

"Maybe, would that mean something?"

"Possibly, it's probably nothing." She shrugged it off. Harry didn't look like he was buying it, but Hermione excused herself and headed up to her room without filling him in. She wrote the letters down:

DIE  
DART NO  
YOU  
TRAM

And then reworked them to her theory:

DIE

DARTMOUTH

YOU

TRAMP, TRAITOR

She hoped she was wrong, after all, the world didn't revolve around her. But a mysterious force at work inside the wards of Hogwarts? Could she really say it was just a coincidence?


	15. Druzy Days

Snape stood still, facing one of the paintings of a long-past Headmaster. Dumbledore was trying to excuse current circumstances away, as if a momentary inconvenience, and he wasn't in the mood. Even Newt Scamander's facial hair was more interesting.

"- and that's why I think we should just let things take their course, poppy derbies, and all. Vigilance, vigilance of course, but never fear!"

"Events have gone from being an extreme annoyance to being a danger to the students." Snape interrupted Dumbledore's speech. "We have two students in the hospital wing."

"Patched up as we speak." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Have you discovered any other danger posed by the ring?"

"I believe this afternoon speaks for itself, not only in the damage inflicted, but in it's implication."

"Yes, the message." Dumbledore sat back, popping a few pieces of candy into his mouth. "I had not foreseen a direct danger to Hermione because of this."

"You didn't foresee anything." Snape turned on the headmaster, narrowing his eyes. "You went on a whim and a prediction from that charlatan."

"Now, now my boy, Professor Trewlawney has been right in the past."

Snape huffed. "Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Whatever you may think, I would not put you in this situation if I thought there was any great danger to Hermione or the other students."

"You merely wish to make my life miserable, of course."

Dumbledore raised up a hand to interrupt any coming rant. "But, I do need you to be on guard. It would seem from your report that the ring protected Hermione as a shield, but it is possible the ring itself is the cause of today's incident."

"Possible? You said the message was addressed to Dartmouth."

"That is the most likely recipient, though it was incomplete, yes. Considering she is long dead, then it was more likely a triggered spell than an actual person." Dumbledore stopped for a moment. "You didn't – do – anything with Ms. Granger, did you?"

"What? No." Snape bristled. "Never."

"Good, good." Dumbledore relaxed, "I was worried it might be a reaction to an indiscretion."

"Consider who you are speaking with." Snape hissed lowly.

Dumbledore broke into laughter. "I'm just having fun with you."

"I have potions to attend to," Snape swirled towards the door, only half looking back, "Not to miss out on any more 'fun'."

"Of course, of course, fly away." Dumbledore shooed him out. "But let me know if you learn anything more."

"That you don't already know?" Snape mumbled as he marched down the stairs. This entire chain of events had him set on edge, and he did not like that at all.

* * *

Ron tentatively sat down next to Hermione. She'd been curled up on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room for some time, varying between biting her lip, clutching her legs, and staring at her hand. "Something up?" He asked, but she didn't notice. "Still worried about earlier?"

"Oh, what?" Hermione stirred a bit. "I'm sorry Ron, I didn't see you. I suppose I am still worked up about earlier."

"Pomfrey said everyone would be ok, even the Quidditch Pitch will be repaired in time for the next match."

"I know." Hermione sighed.

"You didn't fail."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Hermione paused, "Well, not entirely. I do feel somewhat responsible. Maybe we should have all flew out with Harry."

"Bad idea." Harry flopped down.

"You're back, mate!"

"Yah, I just had to wait for the burn cream to do it's work. Great stuff, that." Harry gave Hermione a sideways hug. "Even I got burnt, and I was flying as fast as I could. I could barely see a thing, I was going by instinct for a bit there until I got clear."

"But you did get clear." Hermione huffed.

"By the skin of my teeth." Harry raised a hand, "I swear."

"It's not your fault." Ron punched her lightly in the arm.

"Gah, I am being a mess, aren't I." Hermione sat back. "It's a good thing the teachers showed up though."

"Say, Hermione - I know it was a bit chaotic, but I don't remember you putting up a shield. For you, I mean." Ron looked at her hesitantly.

"I -" Hermione swallowed. She still didn't know what, or if she should, fill her friends in on the details. Normally she wouldn't hesitate, but Snape's particular brand of involvement was a red flag. "I guess I must have, it was all so hectic."

"Well, I guess you must have. You would have been hit otherwise." Ron looked pained. "I – I'm glad your ok."

"Me too." Harry looked at her seriously, then gave Ron a mischevious grin. Both boys tackled her in a sudden hug.

"Hey, hey! I'm glad both of you are all right too." Hermione smiled, enduring the bear hugs until they let her breath again. "Now, what did you two choose for your topics for our essay in charms?"

* * *

Hermione stationed herself at one of the empty balconies of the library. Really, most of the library was empty at 7:00, but she preferred the quiet, and the view.

It had turned out that the school's copy of a "_Wizard's Dictionary of all the Languages in Existence: Muggle, Magical, and Mythical" _was actually in the restricted section, no doubt for it's containing languages used in dark spells and dark magic. It had not been that hard, however, to get a note from Mr. Flitwick on the excuse; true, really; that she wanted it for research in her charms essay. In fact, she'd taken so long to complete her essay precisely because of the new book to peruse.

It was so fascinating! It was more of an interactive aid than a usual book. If one could not find a needed language in the index, one merely had to speak or write in the desired tongue to find a whole new chapter appear about it. She had not known so many charms got their meaning and power from languages long dead, but it made an excellent essay topic. By the time she had finished, it was almost closing.

"But what about you?" She stared at the ring, turning it around between her fingers. She couldn't pronounce what it said, but she could probably copy it. Moving to grab her quill, the ring dropped onto the book.

The pages shifted and swirled, a mess of black ink. Hermione stared, as slowly the chaos resolved itself into text:

_"Recondite star, I breathe to hold thy love,_

_Inestimable gem that locks the past._

_In clouds I dream to fly beside the dove,_

_In future born of destiny and ash."_

'That's longer than I expected.' Hermione pondered, adding it to her notes. The book continued with a passage on the language, far more brief than any of the other chapters she had seen. It was a mythical language, and the explanation stated that they usually conveyed a high degree of imagery or information, depending on the language, in fewer syllables than either muggle or magical languages, making them extremely efficient. 'But what language is it...' She scanned down, reading the page as fast as possible to get to the end.

'The phoenix butterfly?' She set her notes down. 'Hagrid never mentioned that in class.'

She got up, putting everything in her bag except the book, which the librarian had said she needed to leave in the library. Perhaps there was still time to check out a book on mythical creatures.

"I'm sorry, not tonight." Madame Pince kicked her out when she came to the front desk to ask. "It's 9:02 already, I was just locking up."

* * *

'Unfortunate.' Hermione bit her lip, heading for the staircases. 'But at least now I have somewhere to start.'

The staircase shifted beneath here, not an uncommon occurrence, but an inconvenience nonetheless.

"Really?" She stepped off, realizing the new connections meant a much longer and convoluted route than normal. Still, she would never get back to the dorm by complaining about it, and so trudged on.

"Planning to break curfew, mudblood?" A voice called to her from the recesses of the third floor.

"Just navigating the stairs - " Hermione swallowed.

"I'm on patrol tonight in this area." Draco stepped out from behind one of the columns onto the landing. "It would be an abdication of my duties as Prefect if I didn't ask you a few questions."

"Really, I'm just heading up to my room from the library - "

"Really, I don't care." Draco said stonily. "We have unfinished business."


	16. Prehnite Remembrance

"What do you want, Draco?" Hermione edged closer to the steps, but Draco matched her movements.

Draco gritted his teeth. "We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you." Hermione jumped backwards when the timing was right, catching the staircase just as it was leaving.

She didn't expect Draco to leap after her, nearly falling as he caught the edge with his hands and clamored up.

"I said, we are going to have a talk." He stepped forward menacingly, "Whether you feel like it or not, Amelia."

* * *

Snape paced, the incident from a couple nights ago still plaguing him. He'd let a Gryffindor meddle, his legillimency was acting up, Draco had put his mouth where he'd no right to - everything was just wrong.

He couldn't do much about the first or the third, but the second at least he could test. If his theory was correct, side effects from the curse of the ring were 'amplifying' his skills. Unfortunately, if people got dizzy from a simple mind read, that would make detection far more likely. He would have to increase his level of control and precision, and scale back his use of force, if that was the case.

Fortunately, he had the perfect test subject.

"Potter, about time." Snape growled as the boy meekly entered the classroom. It hadn't been that hard to arrange a 'detention' for the boy - Weasley and Potter were easy targets - plus it gave him an excuse not to see Granger for the night.

"You said 9 O'clock sir." Harry questioned the time. It was rather late for a detention to just be starting.

Snape waved his hand. "We'll be working on your occulmancy."

"What?!" Harry balked. "There's no need anymore, is there?"

"There was an attack on the school just yesterday." Snape pointed out and walked quickly over to the boy, giving him a glance. Harry was not as easy as Draco, but his knees shook as Snape's mind easily theaded through the complex tendrils of his surface thoughts. "And you seem out of practice."

Harry mustered himself and slowly pushed. Snape didn't push back, but allowed himself to be shoved back out of Harry's mind.

Snape got chairs. This was going to be a long evening; but useful. Harry probably wouldn't enjoy it either; that made it more fun.

* * *

Somehow it had happened; Hermione had been insistent she return to her room, and Draco had been insistent they talk. _Insistent with the threat of force._ So now, she sat across Draco in her room, drinking chamomile tea. _And he had her wand hostage again._ It was a bit surreal.

"Good tea." Was the first thing Draco said, now that they were in her room.

"Mm." She nodded. She'd started drinking it a few days ago. "It's relaxing".

Draco continued to sip in silence, staring resolutely at his cup.

"You called me Amelia." Hermione whispered.

"Who?" Draco scrinched his brow. "No, wait, I did. Odd." He downed the rest of his tea. "Oh, wait! I had a dream once where you were named Amelia."

Hermione stared. "You had a dream..about me..where I was named Amelia?"

"I mean -" Draco pretended to drink his tea, but his cup was empty. "Nothing weird. It was a normal dream. You were just passing through. Why would I dream about a mudblood like you? Forget it."

"But my name was Amelia."

"Why are you stuck on that?" Draco glanced away and ran a hand through his hair.

"Did I act different? Talk wierd?" Hermione leaned forward, grabbing a quill.

"You're going to take notes?!" Draco backed away from her enthusiasm and looked away again. "You had ringlets, like now, and a fancy dress. But I don't remember much, it was a bad dream."

"A..bad dream?" Hermione looked with concern.

"Are you hard of hearing? Don't just look dumb and repeat things, mudblood." Draco stood up and paced. "I don't mean bad like a nightmare, just some stupid tragedy. Amelia was engaged to marry Septimus, but she betrayed him by making love to his best friend Richard. Her actions turned blood brothers into a blood fued."

"That's horrible!" Hermione gasped. "Could that be true? Did she do such a thing?"

"You tell me." Draco shot an arm over her shoulder to pin her against the side of the bed. "Tell me Granger; why do I hate you, and why do I want you, if it isn't the truth?" He kissed her roughly, climbing into her lap and pinning her wrists together with his left hand.

"Mal -"

"Shut up or I'll bite where people can see." He threatened, scooping her up onto the bed. "No promises about where people can't. There's no Richard here right now." Draco kissed her neck softly, "So look only at me."


	17. Iolite Altercations

Hermione clawed at Draco's shoulder as he trailed small nips beneath her collarbone. He batted her hand away easily.

"Stop mewling Granger, or I'll think you're enjoying it."

Hermione kneed him as his hand slid under her shirt, but it wasn't any use. Since when had Draco gotten so strong? Other than casting a silence ward, he hadn't even bothered with his wand. Still, she wasn't about to give up without a fight.

"Gryffindors." Draco curled his lip at her struggles. "Never know when to give up." He finally managed to get her shirt off, and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor. "Trust me on this Granger," he stroked her torso and smiled as she reflexively shivered at the touch, "This round goes to me".

* * *

Harry clutched the chair, kneeling on the stone, perspiring, "isn't this enough? My head's gonna split".

"Where's your bravado?" Snape tossed him a candy; it would be no good if the boy went unconscious before he finished. "You could finish detention clearing the potion slag, if you'd rather".

Harry's face wrinkled and he stumbled to his feet. "I'd rather not, thank you." Nothing rejuvenated a student like the threat of scraping the foulest smelling potion refuse from the dungeon furnace.

"A wise descision." Snape looked him in the eye and began again. Harry did not particularily have an interesting mind; he was too preoccupied with himself and his troubles to be interesting, most people were; and by now Harry's method's of defense had become routine. Harry was not a bad occulmens, (_he had had an excellent teacher)_, but his predictability was a weakness. He would wall off his closest memories, distracting with irrelevant but high intensity emotional ones. This bluffing would trick a casual intrusion, but not fool an experienced or persistent legillimens.

Snape lightly brushed over casual memories and recent thoughts, not even attempting a deep probe. He'd save crushing Harry for the end, to see how long it would take compared to normal. For now, each pass needed to be lighter than the last, not deeper. He needed to soften his touch.

Harry looked confused. "That's not hard at all".

"The dark lord can use even casual memories against you." Snape lectured, as if his goal tonight was actually to teach the boy anything at all, "While you protect your deepest memories, he can see the bonds you keep closet to you. The friends you embrace become your weakness". The memory of the bear hug with Hermione had unnerved him; memories, especially with legillimency, often brought with them sensation, emotion, an on overload of companion thoughts. It was very different than looking in a pensieve. Even in a simple memory of friends hugging: Harry was conscious of Hermione as a girl, awkwardly so. He didn't know what to do about that. Ron's body temperature was heated; obviously he had known Hermione was a woman for quite a while. Harry had just figured out two things; Hermione was a decently attractive girl, and Ron liked Hermione. His two best friends might not always be 'just friends'. Which meant he might be on his own -

Snape backed out before the small memory could lead him strait into the guarded parts of Harry's mind. Loneliness, fear, abandonment. The smallest encounter could be a gateway to the deepest secret. This was different than his usual route for legillimency; but surprisingly effective.

Harry blanched, "Stop spying on my friends".

"Then stop me." Snape challenged with a stare, brushing Harry's mind even lighter, touching nothing more serious than the breakfast menu or Harry's choice of socks.

Harry stared back. "Aren't you going to start?"

"I'm assessing." _Interesting._ So Harry's level of sensitivity had a limit, and it was between the last two tests. If he could find the exact line where Harry could not detect his entry, then it would give a baseline for undetectable legillimens. Most wizards, even the average trained occulmens, would have a sensitivity equivalent or lower than Harry's. _Dumbledore was another matter._ He increased his delving, just slightly -

~ RICHARD! ~

The telepathic blast floored them both. Harry was the first to recover, _damn him_, since he had been on guard while Snape had been on mental exploration.

"What kind of legillimency was that?" Harry looked at him accusingly, holding his head. "Some sort of attack? It's still echoing in my brain!"

Snape glared from his undistinguished position on the floor where he had collapsed. Quickly, he gathered his cloak and stood, trying not to reel. It was echoing in _his_ brain too. "That wasn't from me." He said briskly. "Dismissed, Potter." He turned, aiming for the fire place, but stumbling near his desk. He leaned on it for support, breathing heavily. _Damn it!_

"Are you all right, Professor?"

"Fine. Go." Snape seethed inwardly, grabbing the floo powder as the boy wonder left.

The wrenching trip through the fireplace did little to ease the knots in his stomach or his mind.


	18. Amethyst Clarity

"I expected more from you Granger." Draco licked a tear from her cheek, pressing his bare chest into her back, tightly holding her. "Where's all that gusto now?"

Hermione shook weakly. It had been the first touch of Draco's skin on hers that had sent her over the edge; he was serious; she wasn't getting out of this. This was really happening.

"Show some spirit." Draco reached around front and gave a twist. Hermione yelped, bucking back against him and elbowing back.

"Better." Draco pushed her down again into the pillows. "I don't need a whimpering pet." He grabbed a fistful of her hair. "But that's enough foreplay for the likes of you, don't you think?" He smothered her protests with a deep kiss, slapping her when she tried to bite him.

When he finally broke off, she came up sputtering. "Desist, foul man!"

"Oh." Draco paused for a moment, sitting up. "Amelia then, is it?" A wicked grin passed his face. "No need to be gentle with _you_."

* * *

Snape tumbled out the fireplace into a spinning field of red and gold. It resolved into an even more horrible sight.

"I expected you sooner, old friend." Draco sat casually on the bed, half-robed, wand at ready.

Snape cursed inwardly, bringing his own wand to bear. His disorientation had cost him the element of surprise. And Hermione -

She was unconscious, sitting on the floor with her head tilted onto the bed towards Draco's knee. She was clad only in her underwear and outer cloak, which had been lazily draped and covered little. (He tried not to stare). Worse were the bruises and the marks. He'd seen some of Draco's girlfriends before, as the godfather he was counted on to cover-up any time Draco got into trouble - but this was different. It was a personal, emotional attack - not just a fling.

"How many times have I told you Draco, not to let your sexual escapades get carried away?" Snape clenched a fist and released it, standing, masking his anger.

"Escapade?" Draco laughed. "As if I'd sleep with a mudblood." He nudged the figure next to him with a light kick, and Hermione toppled to the floor. Her cloak fell completely open, (Snape tried not to swallow too audibly), revealing the word 'traitor' cut across her lower torso. The blood was still fresh; he had probably done it with his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape shouted at the same time Draco shouted "Protego!"

The professor flicked his wand, shooting Incarcerous nonverbally.

"Incendio!" Draco shot back, burning the ropes Snape shot at him to flames.

Snape twitched his wand again. ~Silencio~.

Draco casually flipped his wand in a standard nonverbal rebound spell. Snape barely had time to deflect the spell off into a corner. Draco shook his head. "You're too predictable, Richard. Don't you have anything new? My godfather would never duel this poorly."

Snape stared at his wand in horror. He had confirmed the ring was amplifying his powers of legillimency - but what if it was affecting his other skills as well? What if -

Wait. How did Draco know about Richard?

"You should stick to potions." Draco stood, casually pulling the sleeves of his robe back up over his shoulders. "You always were a horrible duelist. It's why you lost, in the end".

Snape raised his eyebrows. Richard had died in a duel, although 'horrible duelist' was quite a stretch. He'd been an old man by then, and his opponent, if Snape recalled, had been Septimus. A formidible opponent, for anyone. "Septimus Malfoy." Snape leveled his wand.

"Oh, I'm not _him_." Draco spat, "He's long dead. Amelia made sure of that." Draco glared. "But you won't escape his curse, no matter where you run and hide." Draco laughed. "None of us can."

Returning the stare, Snape brushed into Draco's surface thoughts. What did he know about the ring? But while Amelia, Richard, curse, theft, and betrayal were all beacons in the boys mind; leading easily down to deeper paths, so he avoided triggering them; there was no consciousness of a ring that he could detect. Either Draco didn't know, or all thoughts of it were well guarded.

"Richard?" Hermione stirred. Or perhaps, Amelia, stirred. He wasn't sure what to call her. She opened her chocolate eyes languidly, blinking recognition. Her face relaxed before she passed out again.

Snape whirled on Draco.

"Protego!" The boy shouted, but his shield was in vain and he knew it.

"Legillimens." He hissed, ripping open every path he had just explored simultaneously. Draco crumpled, screaming. Snape skewered, following thoughts of Septimus and dreams of Amelia, down to the boys deeper dreams of Hermione, and to his innermost guarded thoughts. He stopped only when he reached the core of Draco's traumas. Snape grimaced. That wasn't for Draco's sake, he was no soft heart to torture. But he wouldn't give Lucius the pleasure of making his son relive those days.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Draco sobbed, curled up in a fetal position. "I'm sorry Mr. Snape."

It would probably take him a few days to recover, Snape assessed, before grabbing him roughly along with his clothes and throwing him headlong through the fireplace back to the dorms. That was _one_ problem solved, for the moment.

"Now, Richard." He spoke into the air. "What am I going to do with you?"

After a moment, a voice inside responded: ~I suppose it would be foolishness to hide.~

~It was all inside Draco's mind.~ Snape 'spoke', adjusting to the inner communication. ~Who, what you are.~

~I know~. Richard replied. ~The mental overload woke me up. I've been so tired, drifting in and out.~

~So, Hermione has not met Amelia yet.~

~It is doubtful.~

The two looked at the sleeping girl. Richard flushed, Snape felt his cheeks warm.

Richard gingerly placed her on the bed. ~Let me tend to Amelia~.

~As you wish.~ Snape conceded. He watched his own hand stroke her cheek under Richard's guidance. He could feel the warmth of her breath tickling his palm. His chest felt tight. Was that Richard's emotion, or his own?


	19. Garnet Intimacy

Ooc Snape: Why do all these side characters keep appearing? Septimus? Draco? Richard? Harry? This fanfiction is about me, you know! *Gallumphs off to flunk Neville*

* * *

"Ennervate".

Amelia opened her eyes to stare up into Richard's. He was above her on the bed, propped up on his elbows. So he had heard her cry, and came to rescue her! "Richard -"

"Episkey Lora." Richard touched a finger to his lips, then touched his lips to a bump on her forhead.

Her head felt hot, then cold, and then the soreness began to fade. She flushed as he planted a kiss on one of the bite marks on her neck. The hot and cold sensation there was overwhelming. "Richard!" She gasped, in a breathier tone.

"Everywhere he touched." Richard growled. "I'll wipe the memory of him from your mind."

"You are too bold, sir." Amelia blushed, bringing her fingers to her lips and stifling small cries as he continued.

* * *

~You're going to have to take over soon.~ Richard warned after a few minutes.

~What do you mean, take over?~ Snape scoffed, and shivered, as Richard kissed the the underside of one of Amelia's breasts.

~I may be Richard's imprint, but physiologically I'm not human. Until I get used to your body, this level of sensory input is too overwhelming~.

~'This level of sensory input'~. Snape laughed. ~Think what you're doing to _her _before you complain.~ Amelia was cooing in some sort of stupor.

Richard leaned forward to capture Amelia's lips, then suddenly Snape found that movement of the body had been released back to him. ~Sorry~. Was all Richard offered.

~Warn me sooner, next time.~ Snape admonished, not moving for the moment. She might be Amelia, but she had Granger's body, which recalled pleasant memories of earlier in the week. It was no use being sentimental, though.

He sat back and assessed the situation. Amelia still had wounds to treat, but a normal Episkey spell would do just as well. Albeit, he had to admit that Richard's modification was brilliantly erotic. And, it wasn't as if it was a problem to kiss a woman, he'd done it frequently enough. It was standard in the Death Eater Circle. That fact it wouldn't really be a woman, but a magical creature with the imprint of a woman, who happened to be inside the body of Granger, wasn't a turn-off either. In fact, it was a bit of a selling-point.

Snape leaned down and kissed the T in TRAITOR, watching it fade away as Amelia shuddered into the touch. He found a gutteral moan escaping his lips.

~Your level of arousal is surprisingly high for this.~ Richard admonished. ~I will clarify, Amelia is MINE.~

~Shut up with the running commentary.~ Snape licked the next two letters, nicking them with his teeth and tasting fresh blood. The spell was going to instantly heal them anyway. ~I'll do what I want with MY student.~

* * *

Hermione dreamed herself swimming in a pool of light. Something else was drifting with her. It was hard to tell what. It felt like another girl, but all she saw was fluttering flames. Hermione waved. The being seemed to respond in a shower of colorful sparks. Sensations drifted down to her, pleasant ones, _very_, not like the terrible ones from before. Before? Oh yes, Draco -

Suddenly her pool was a swirling matrix of information, reminding her of all that had occured that day in an instant, and she was ejected back to reality. Her eyes focused.

Snape. He was all over her; his passion was palpable. She gave an involuntary cry of pleasure, arcing her back up into him as his mouth continued it's assault. There was no way this situation could be real -

"You are surprisingly responsive, Amelia."

Hermione felt a hot-cold trail following along where he had touched. So that was it. Snape and her must have been affected by the ring again, and Richard must be using some sort of modified Episkey spell to heal Amelia. Snape would be channeling Richard, then, if he was calling her Amelia. This was a good chance to learn more about the ring -

"Ahh!" If she could concentrate. Her body felt ready to explode. Richard was obviously as sensual as she (imagined) Snape to be. It was disappointing though, like a secret fantasy with all the wrong players. It wasn't fair; he looked like Snape, smelled like him, felt like him. It wasn't as if she really _liked_ Snape anymore anyway, did she? But why was her body responding so easily?

She reflexively reached down and grabbed his hair as he continued his game of 'doctor', suckling, kissing, even biting the places where Draco had kissed and bit and twisted.

Hermione petted his hair; he purred and increased his efforts. _This wasn't Richard. _She knew little about the ring, but this competitive streak - it was Slytherin through and through. He was trying to _outdo_ Draco. That was more in keeping with her snarky and secretly passionate professor than the elusive but gentlemanly Richard. The real question wasn't why Snape was doing it of his own free will, but - would he stop if he knew it was her, and not Amelia?

"_Not in my dungeon, and never again with me"_ echoed in her head. She flushed and turned her head into the pillow, which was fortunate timing for Snape had reached her neck. It saved her from looking him in the eye, which she was sure would have gotten her instantly caught.

Just how much could she get away with? Hermione ran her hand along his back, tracing his spine through the cloth of his robe. He hadn't unbuttoned, but at least he'd taken off his cloak. Snape moved with the touch; she could feel the heat from his body radiate through the cloth. She felt a bit of anger that his arousal wasn't for _her_.

~Am I getting possessive? Of Snape?~ Hermione shook her head to clear it (Which Snape took as an invitation to nuzzle, despite there being no marks left). But she did want something. Her hands moved to his neck, a tricky business as she was nearly pinned in the current position, and fumbled with his top button until it grudgingly came loose. She stared at the tiniest peek of his neck, feeling a triumphant thrill.

Snape scooped a hand behind her head, turning her blushing face, placing his last nip firmly on the tip of her right ear, where Malfoy had bit her the night she had detention.

"Severus!" She exclaimed, her whole body shaking with electricity. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but to no avail.

Snape smiled knowingly, looking her directly in the eyes. "Never try and play a Slytherin, Miss Granger. We always win."


	20. Morganite Kindling

Hermione flushed, her heart beating wildly. "Since when did you know?"

"Since this." Snape placed her hand on his hair. "But I assumed you'd be out soon. Richard and Amelia can't seem to handle much - stimulation."

"Stimulation." Hermione reflexively licked her lips, running her fingers through the dark strands. "Is that what you call this?"

"Effective." Snape nodded. "I'm back, you're back, Draco's gone, you're healed." He sat up. "We can call it a night."

"Professor Snape!" Hermione cried in protest, then flushed beet red and grabbed a blanket to cover herself. Was she really going to let her body override common sense? Of course he should leave, and quickly!

"Miss Granger." He leaned in, his words teasing her like silk. "Would you rather me stay and ravage you? It's been some time since I've despoiled a virgin."

"I -" Hermione swallowed. "You're right, I mean, you should go." _Arithmancy. Just think arithmancy. 8 + 5 + 9 + 4 + 6 ..._

"As you wish." He stood and collected his cloak. She was busy 'not watching him' from the corner of her eye. That wouldn't do; this game was too much fun for a half-commited player.

Snape leaned over until she her Gryffindor nature forced her to return the stare. "One more thing," He grabbed her hand, placing it at his collar. With a deft flick, he ripped the second button from the cloth, leaving it in her fist.

Hermione gawked between his exposed neck and the quarter sized treasure in her hand. She turned several different shades of red in turn. Had he guessed her secret fetish that quickly? Still, she couldn't let him win so easily.

"Three buttons." She held out her hand, demanding.

Snape raised an eyebrow, amused. This was much better. She was looking at him squarely. The Gryffindor better not dare look away again. "You already undid one button earlier, and that makes two. Three, and you're just being greedy."

"And I'm not wearing a shirt."Hermione pointed out. "Or a bra."

Snape fought hard to keep his face strait at that. "My buttons cost a lost more than your shirt."

Hermione glared.

Snape grasped his top button and gave it to her.

"But that's the one I already undid!"

"You didn't specifiy which. I could have given you a button from my sleeves." Snape pointed out.

"The large ones." Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you still have only given me two."

"I'll give you the third after your next detention." Snape promised with a glint in his eye. "AFTER. So don't get any ideas about getting out of your punishment."

"Yes sir." Hermione blushed and clutched the buttons tightly. Why did the way he said it sound so naughty?

Snape smirked and turned for the fireplace. "Pleasant dreams, Hermione." He offered languidly as he disappeared into the flame.

* * *

Dumbledore paced his office, Fawkes crooning empathetically. Every few minutes, Dumbledore would pause to toss a seeker coin onto the floor. It would seek out one of the many colored files on the floor; a lot like a random coin toss, but with a bit of magic that no one quite understood.

The chosen files went into a pile until there were ten. The other twenty went into the trash.

The old wizard sighed. Things were getting more serious than he would like. He should have suspected it as soon as Sibil had had an actual vision. Her visions never were simple matters.

He'd thank Hermione, but he doubted she'd be pleased that he kept tabs on her reading list. Still, the link from the ring to the Phoenix Butterfly was invaluable. Dumbledore stroked his own Phoenix thoughtfully. He hoped his theory wasn't right; but it didn't matter. If there was the slightest possibility that the Phoenix Butterfly still existed, and was inside Hermione, then he couldn't waste any time.

Fawkes nestled down to sleep; it was 3am. Dumbledore shook sleep from his eyes and grabbed the files. "Which one of you ten," he asked, "will change the world?"


	21. Adventurine Pageant

"Miss Granger. _Hermione._"

Hermione winced as sunlight speared her eyes. Someone had pulled the curtains. McGonagall?

"Hermione. I know it's early, but this is no morning to sleep in."

Hermione sat up, grateful she'd at least managed to put a robe on before crashing for the night. Still, sleep had been elusive. _Wicked Snape._ "What's going on?" It was rare for Professor McGonagall to come to her quarters personally, unless it was on urgent business with the Head Girl.

"It's going to be chaos!" Minerva sighed. "Quick, quick. Get dressed. We'll eat here, I'll fill you in."

Hermione slipped out of bed, tucking the buttons a little deeper under her pillow on her way. Was there anything out of place? She scanned on her way to the closet, tucking her bra under one of the fallen blankets. She was going to _kill_ Draco. At least McGonagall was on the other side of the room, and the uncharacteristic mess did hide the evidence effectively. She grabbed a fresh set of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Breakfast." McGonagall announced when she returned, gesturing to two trays she had set up on the low table. "Did you have company last night?"

Hermione flushed, then calmed. McGonagall didn't mean _that_ kind of company. [Even if it would have been a better guess]. The abandoned tea cups had obviously caught her eye.

"Oh, yes. Draco came by for a talk." Hermione sat down and covered the awkward moment by taking an overly large bite of eggs.

"Draco?" McGonagall looked shocked. "I wouldn't have guessed he took his prefect duties so seriously."

"First time he's stopped in, but the issue was sensitive." Hermione wasn't sure why she was covering for the prat, but talk about Draco might lead to talk about Snape. "He's got it handled."

"Well, never mind him." McGonagall waved. "Dumbledore's gone mad. More mad than usual. He wants to host the Council Recognizing Illustrious Wizards here, at Hogwarts! In two weeks!"

"Here?!" Hermione squeaked. "How ever did he get permission?" C.R.I.W. was like the Olympics; rare, festive, and spectacular. You couldn't just 'decide' to have it at your house.

"It turns out they were going to cancel this year." Minerva fanned herself, "due to the problem of securing a large enough area against possible attack. Hogwarts, however, is already safe. But why the Headmaster would offer, I don't know. Two weeks isn't enough time to prepare!"

Hermione nodded. "It's not just the guests we have to see to, but the details of the ceremony itself."

"And the students!" McGonagall slid her a parchment. "The students will be preparing displays and competing amongst each other as well."

"This is detailed." Hermione turned the parchment sideways, examining the three feet of in depth but hastily scrolled notes and sketches. "It's like a school exhibition."

"That's what I said to him." McGonagall sniffed. "I don't know where he gets these schemes."

"But you have to admit it's exciting!" Hermione said, slathering a hefty amount of jam onto her toast, "Just think of all the famous wizards and witches we will get to meet, the Who's Who list come alive!"

* * *

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and counted inwardly to three. That crazy old man had really gone and done it this time. Every teacher had been given a set of 'instructions' for the next two weeks, which boiled down to chaos.

~I think it's great adventure.~ Richard offered. ~Let the children be creative.~

"As if I care what _you_ think about it." Snape grumbled. The class was used to him muttering to himself, anyway. "Exploding cauldrons, stinking labs, laughter, giddiness, running in the halls, gossip; sure; independent projects are great fun."

~Speaking of exploding cauldrons, you might want to check on the Neville boy."

Snape stalked over to the bubbling mess, waving it away before the boy could protest. "Why are you even here?" He sneered. "Do you understand the meaning of the term 'independent project'?"

"I just thought I'd try -" Neville stammered.

"You cannot possibly think that potions is your best skill." Snape shooed him out, "Go bother Mrs. Sprout and Stop distracting the serious students." He turned on the class. "Do you understand that?" He glared at each of them in turn. "None of you have to be here." He glowered and began writing out a complicated recipe on the board. He heard the scraping of chairs and the packing of supplies behind him.

Idiots; they only just now realized they were free agents? Dumbledore had explained to the students at breakfast that they could choose anything for their independent project, and could move freely among the classrooms, labs, and library until CRIW.

When he turned back, only a handful of students remained. Nerissa Brody, Daphne Greengrass, and a few other Slytherins that were decent at potions; that made enough sense, they would probably prefer a familiar environment and the coaching of their head of house on a project like this; a couple Gryffindors including Hermione, they either were being brave or being stupid; and a Ravenclaw, Anthony Goldstein, whose potion's work he had been keeping an eye on.

Seven students. He could manage that, but more might trickle in later. It was best to lay down the rules now.

"As coach for your independent projects," Snape offered silkily, "I will provide insight, resources, and aid." He paused until the students looked sufficiently confused at his benevolence, "However, I will accept no half-hearted commitment. If you choose to work in potions, then you will work. In return, I promise to guide you with a firm hand." He directed the last line at Hermione, daring her to blush. She didn't, though her mouth twitched. He pointed to the recipe he had written out. He had chosen a decently complex apprentice level potion with some variations from standard form; daunting, but nothing a focused seventh year shouldn't be able to handle. "First, you have one hour to study and brew the Draught of Crying Moonlight. If I am satisfied, you may stay."

Several of the students cried in dismay. Nerissa Brody started grabbing her things to leave for an easier class. Hermione, Greengrass, and Goldstein got strait to work.

Snape returned to his desk, satisfied. Perhaps two weeks tutoring reasonable competent students would be better than classes full of chaos and spills and laughter.


	22. Topaz Renewal

Hermione shook sleep from her eyes, pushing away the pile of parchment in front of her for the moment. Two weeks just wasn't enough time to do everything she wanted to! She looked mournfully at her stack of essays, originally written in advance for various classes. Were any of them good enough for a project entry? Certainly, she didn't want to restrict herself to just one category! A chance to participate in CRIW, [even as student entertainment], might only come once in a lifetime; at least she imagined she wouldn't be back again until she was some old witch receiving the Order of Merlin for an obscure contribution to society.

Her arithmancy essay on the Chaldean system wasn't bad, she decided. It could be polished up fairly easily. Her favorite as-yet-to-be-turned-in astronomy essay was a bit sarcastic, a bit tongue in cheek as she rambled on about the hypercosmic reality underlying the physical, and how the phenomenon of entanglement at the quantum level influenced magic; she'd only written it because that sort of thing really tickled Professor Sinistra; but it was just bizarre and esoteric enough, with enough diagrams and charts, that it could pass for a serious entry. She could probably whip up a magical model to go with it, if need be. ~Besides~, Hermione chuckled, ~It's not as if I didn't do my research. But my biggest project has to be -~

~Potions.~ A little voice inside her spoke.

"Potions, yes." Hermione agreed. "A transfiguration project would take too long, and charms just isn't as appealing."

~I love brewing potions.~

"Love? Do I really love brewing potions?" Hermione scrinched her nose. Her inner diologue was running amok, it seemed. "I do really, really like it, that's true. It is one of my favorite classes. Is that love?"

~The gentlest tap of blade on flower, the fleetest scent of lavender, the bubbling sound, the warmest glow, the clock inside my mind. Two drops, gentle flame, two sprigs, three stirs, one wave, ninety-five minutes~

"Two measures SI, 4 mistletoe, eight grinds, 2 pinches, five stirs, one wave.." Hermione continued the recipe, choking back a sob as a rush of sensations hit her. A lifetime of smells, sights, sounds, of _love, _crashed into her until she was drowning in a warm fire.

~And always, always him.~

~STOP~ Hermione screamed inside her mind, but the memories continued.

~I'm sorry~. The voice said, clearer.

Hermione understood now that it was not herself that was speaking, but someone else.

~You have many precious memories, they are hard to take in at once.~ The voice resolved itself into the mental image of a woman. _Amelia. _~It must be the same for you. I can feel your distress.~

"Distress?" Hermione held her head. The onslaught was over; a lifetime downloaded in an instant. "I'm not really sure how to put it into words. It's not just that you're inside my head - but you knew this would happen. You planned all of it. For that man."

~Richard.~ Amelia agreed. ~As for merging with a Pheonix Butterfly, it would have happened to you regardless. It would have happened to my son, and his first child, and so down the line.~

~But you delayed it.~ Hermione bit her lip, mulling over the information in her mind. It was like having a whole new library in her head; she had to confess she didn't hate that. ~You took the Butterfly out of yourself and put it into the ring.~

~Yes, and?~ Amelia prodded.

"Not just your butterfly!" Hermione gasped, sitting upright. "The ring! You set it up! Richard had the ring buried with him; when he died, his butterfly joined yours in the ring!"

~A blissful but lonely century we drifted together.~ Amelia sighed. "We called to the upper world; first to a grave robber, then an auror, then his child. We thought we might stay forever, flying together in that world, but we were losing ourselves. Blood was no longer enough, we needed someone with our passions to break the seal on the ring.~

~Symbiosis with the Phoenix Butterfly comes with a price, then." Hermione added thoughtfully.

~For a normal lifespan, both partners are equals. It is only over time, as the butterfly is reborn, that one begins to slip away. There is no such thing as true immortality.~

"So you chose Snape and I because we were compatible descendents."

~And it still took time for me to awaken fully. I was drifting in and out. Your mind holds many thoughts. Your language is less cumbersome.~

"I was wondering about that." Hermione asked the question while perusing memories for the answer herself. "You originally spoke older english than Richard, and yet now you are speaking almost normal."

~I'm older than Richard. I inherited the butterfly from my mother through my grandfather.~

~You mean the butterfly.~ Hermione understood, and then blushed bright red. "Oh! Is THAT how Richard became merged with a butterfly phoenix?"

~Yes. As the true phoenix renews itself every five hundred years, so the Phoenix Butterfly is also a creature of the sun, which must renew itself roughly every two hundred and fifty years. It's process is slightly different; using the fires of passion to burn itself out, and from the ashes are born two new lives inside each respective heart. Choosing a mate must be done carefully, as the phoenix will spawn upon first intercourse.~

~You mean, when Draco almost?~ Hermione shuddered. It seemed Snape had gotten there in time, but if Draco had carried out what seemed to be his intention -

~When Draco what?~ Amelia seemed taken aback.

"The other night. You should know, you popped in for a while."

~My memories are hazy of this last while - OH~! Yes. That would have been a problem.~

Both women blushed furiously.

Hermione was the first to speak. "Why did Draco stop?"

~Never mind that.~ Amelia fumed. "Why did my Richard let your Snape TOUCH ME?"

"He's not 'my Snape'"

"Oh? Your screaming 'Severus' into his ear would say otherwise."

"Did I do that?" Hermione laughed nervously.

"You certainly did." A new voice drawled from behind them, near the fireplace.

The two whirled to see a rather bemused potion's professor.

"I wondered what could keep the Academic, punctual Granger from keeping her appointments." Snape reminded her of her detention, "But I see from the two of you bickering to yourselves that you've met."


	23. Tourmaline Polarity

Ooc: So sorry for the delay! There was a problem with the router, and fixing it (for some reason) increased internet security. So I wasn't able to access the fanfiction site for a few months there.

* * *

"Snape!"! Amelia leveled her wand at him, "I'm going to send you to the netherworld!"

"Hex away." Snape frowned, rubbing two fingers along the furrow between his eyes. "I'll set up an appointment for you and Richard to talk later. Right now, Miss Granger has detention, not you."

Amelia crossed her arms. "That's not how it works. You can't turn us off and on like a nightlight."

"And I can't have you popping in whenever you please, or Richard throwing off my powers."

~Your Snape is a real baby.~ Amelia hmmphed inwardly.

Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth in horror. ~Don't let him ever hear you say that!~

"Granger." Snape hissed. "Come." He turned.

"Yes." She grabbed her bag and followed his already disappearing body through the flames. When she arrived, she found an array of ingredients had been set out on the tables.

Snape didn't touch her, but his proximity was distracting. He stayed just inside her bubble as he swept along the table at a maddening pace, outlining what each additive needed for prep and labeling. He was deviating enough from standard methods that she had to pay close attention.

~But isn't a thirty degree angle the right cut?~ Hermione whined to Amelia as Snape drilled her on the Snakegrass.

~Most potionmasters would say so, but they wouldn't be right.~ Amelia sided grudgingly with Snape. ~Richard and I often experimented with variations on the tiniest details of a potion. Textbook cuts are good guidelines – but they aren't always the best for achieving maximum potency on an ingredient.~

~But what if you don't want maximum potency?~ Hermione sat down at last to juice bloodwort. ~What if standard cuts are there to keep the ingredient balanced and blendable?~

~It's better to use less of a high potency, pure ingredient, and have to use another agent to blend if necessary, than it is to dull the effect of one's materials.~

~Fair point.~

Snape sat down next to her. "Your work would be more efficient if you focused on it, rather than holding conversations in your head."

Hermione flushed, doubling her speed .

"Better." He nodded, standing, sweeping his pile of minced rat tails into a bottle and labeling it. "I'll leave you to your work."

"You're not helping?" Hermione squeaked.

"It's your detention, not mine." Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "You should be able to finish in an hour." He headed for his desk.

Hermione slapped the label on the bottle of bloodwort juice and looked down the table. Only an hour?

"This is common sense," Snape looked up with a sneer, "but you will be faster if you stop taking breaks."

Hermione set her jaw and moved over to the next seat and began skinning the rest of the rat-tails.

~Not quite like that.~ Amelia slightly corrected Hermione's hand motion, letting the blade ease into the flesh and deftly twirl around, so a thin membrane slid down the length. ~Better~.

~I wondered how that was done.~ It took several before Hermione was familiar enough with the motion to do it on her own. She put the finished pile in a second bottle, sweeping the skins into a third bottle. Potions rarely wasted any part of a useful item. Hermione moved down, feeling satisfied as the next was an ingredient she was familiar with.

~You aren't very fast.~ Amelia commented. ~You aren't slow, but you aren't fast.~

~What's that supposed to mean?~ Hermione chopped testily, taking care to be precise.

~You don't do much potions work outside of class.~

~Some, not a lot.~ Hermione conceded. ~There isn't much opportunity, and I can't waltz into the dungeons like its the library.~

~You should practice chopping and sorting. Even things like carrots or green onions – it doesn't have to be a potion ingredient. You'll improve your - ~

"Muscle memory"! Hermione practically shouted, sitting up. ~Of course. Why didn't _I _think of that?~

"You're falling behind schedule, Granger." Snape sighed from the desk. "Please stop disturbing me with your nonsense."

~It's not nonsense.~ Amelia giggled slyly. ~He probably set this up precisely so you could practice your weak point.~

Hermione nodded and moved onto the next chair, where another four ingredients were set out. It seemed like as she went, the tasks got more complicated. One of these had thorns, another was poisonous to the touch.

~You don't need gloves.~ Amelia admonished before she could even think it. ~Do the cut exactly as he explained it, and your hands will never even get close. You can bottle it with your wand.

~You know, this feels like cheating.~ Hermione took the blade, holding it almost flat, then twisted it down and under in four quick motions.

~You will have all my knowledge, all my skills.~

~All your emotions.~ Hermione added sadly.

~It is a blessing, and a curse.~

Hermione couldn't help but swallow. Just what did it mean, to be host to a Phoenix butterfly?

* * *

"Three minutes, Granger."

"I'm almost done." She growled, labeling the last bottle.

"Passable." Snape stood and came over. "Next time, they should be finished and sorted into the storage room."

Hermione balked.

"You look like a fish," was his only response to that.

"Thanks," She said dryly, imagining kicking him in the shin. "I practice in the mirror every day." She wasn't going to cry or pout at his insults anymore, if that's what he was hoping for.

"Granger." He pressed a button into her palm. "As promised."

She blinked, running a finger over the round object until it registered.

"Oh!" She had been so absorbed in cutting and dicing and mincing and slicing that she had nearly forgotten his deal to give her the third. "But-" She looked at him critically. He was still buttoned top to bottom. "This isn't from your robes."

"Not from this set." He arched an eyebrow. "It's from yesterday's. Did you expect me to walk around the school with unbuttoned robes? Or to ruin a perfectly good set?"

"No, I suppose not -" Hermione bit her bottom lip, stealing furtive glances towards his neck.

"Granger." Snape growled into his palm, running his hand back through his hair. "Are you _that keen_ on seeing me undressed?"

"Unbuttoned." Hermione blurted out. "And there's a difference." She stepped forward hesitantly. "I mean -" She put a hand out and lightly touched his chest.

He sucked in a breath. "What exactly is it that you want? To play around?" He grabbed her hand firmly with his own and stepped forward to meet her, until his breath tickled the tendrils of her hair. "I can arrange that."

"I - " Hermione blushed, leaning in towards the heat of his chest. "I don't know what I want."

"Typical Gryffindor." Snape ran a hand down her spine, a light touch that made her shiver. "Brash, stubborn, charging ahead without a clue."

"Typical Slytherin." She retorted, staring up at him, "You just take what you want."

"Yes." He claimed her with a deep kiss. "I do."


	24. Tiger-Eye Tenacity

Hermione had the odd sense that she'd swallowed a daydream-drop on accident. Her mind was rebelling against her senses. It couldn't be real. Snape hadn't just swept her into his bedroom, had he? The soft green silk against her back had to be a lie. Snape's breathing; erratic, his breath was always measured; that had to be her imagination. She reached a hand up in the thin space between them, connecting with his firm chest, running her fingers along to the buttons that always closed him in. That felt real, not the insubstantial haze of a fantasy.

Hermione blushed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Somehow, this isn't quite the position I imagined I'd be in."

"As if I'd let a Gryffindor be on top."

"What, you'd let a Hufflepuff?"

"Only a Ravenclaw." Snape ran his slender fingers down to her hip, making her shiver. "They do their research."

"And I don't?" Hermione protested, biting him softly on the ear.

"Mm. It takes more than the library."

She could feel his smirk, even in the dark room. And she wasn't sure what he was doing with his hands, except that her mother wouldn't approve, but every where he touched would send little jolts through her body. Certain places more than others, and he seemed to be learning quickly where she was the most sensitive. "Nn-" She bit back an involuntary squeak.

"Twitchy, aren't you?" He murmured.

Trying her best to keep her mind focused when everything was going dizzy, she managed to start undoing buttons. It wasn't fair for him to have her entirely off-guard.

He took that as permission to reach inside and under her inner garments and touch in more intimate places.

"Ahhh!" Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth in shock.

"Make as much noise as you like." Severus purred, "I put up a silencing charm."

"Nnn!" She fumbled, distracted, nearly ripping a button off as her hands clenched into his robes and her body trembled.

"Don't get too excited." He pressed his body closer, letting her feel his form and heat. "It means you are entirely at my mercy." He looked into her eyes, grasping her hair tightly and holding her down to the pillow. "You came willingly to my lair; don't come to me crying later that you regret it."

"I don't expect to." Hermione stared back at him; swallowing; but refusing to break the gaze. Underneath him, she managed to get the last of the buttons undone - and he didn't stop her this time.

Rather, he sat up; still atop her legs. In the darkness, a thin strip of bare skin glowed.

She pushed the two halves of the robe aside, letting them spill over his shoulders a bit. She noticed Snape bit back a gasp the first time her palm brushed his bare chest. She leaned forward; might as well go all-in; kissing the skin that tasted of salt and spice. Light moans were all he would allow himself, but it was enough to encourage her exploration. Some places were rough, as if scarred, she noted. But his physique was very good. It probably had to be, for his work as a double-agent for the order.

She apparently paused too long with her thoughts, for Snape pressed her back to the bed with a fervor that would likely leave bruises, even biting her in the neck. She got the feeling that as experienced as he seemed to be with this sort of thing, he preferred to keep clothes-on.

Then he collapsed; she barely had time to wonder why before darkness overcame her as well, and she was floating in a lonely sea.

* * *

"They are going to be furious in the morning." Richard quickly sat up and moved off, straitening the robes as best he could and beginning to re-button them.

"We had to." Amelia bit her lip, flushing. "We shouldn't have even let them get this far, this level of endorphins is still difficult to manage -"

"We may not have long." Richard tried not to make eye contact with her in her rumpled state.

"Yes." Amelia nodded, rolling off the bed. "I will get Hermione back to her room, and explain to her in the morning why it is imperative that she wait."

"It is convenient that she has chosen him." Richard offered.

"If she has chosen him." Amelia shook her head. "She's still young. Desiring someone, and choosing a life-mate are very different. She must understand that before she makes her choice."

"The ideal time would be soon." Richard leaned his head against a post of the bed. "Go, quickly. I don't think you want to be in the room when Snape wakes."

"Not for that conversation." Amelia shook her head. "It will be hard enough with Hermione." She grabbed the floo powder. "Take care, my love." She called back as she vanished through the flames.


End file.
